


Summer of '97

by GrownUp90s



Series: Adam's Odyssey [2]
Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: '90s Nostalgia, Clumsy Teenage Romance, Family Drama, Gen, Life away from the Ducks, Long-Distance Friendship, Post-Canon, Transition: Kid to Young Adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-03-05 00:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrownUp90s/pseuds/GrownUp90s
Summary: School is out, and the Ducks are ready to put the drama of freshman year behind them. Adam has decided once and for all to get close to Julie, and intends to bridge the 1,000 mile gulf between them with the aid of dial-up internet. A story of long-distance bonding and a look at Julie's family life in Maine.





	1. Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! This next one is a short, seasonal novel that bridges the gap between _Us Against the World_ and _Breaking Up the Flock._ _Summer of '97_ is a considerably shorter and more Julie-centric story than the other two, so it kinda feels like the ginger-haired stepchild of the trilogy. But chronologically, it's a nice, snug fit; and I felt there would be a gaping hole in the series without it.
> 
> If you liked my other stories, and you like Julie/Adam, then _Summer of '97_ may just be a fun little ride for you. I hope it is, anyway!
> 
> -Matt

"Yes – I know, Dad," Julie said over phone. "I know! Yes, I love you too. See you tomorrow!"

With a relieved sigh, Julie Gaffney placed her dorm phone back in its cradle on her desk. As much as she loved her father, his 'goodbyes' were conversations in their own right. Rising from her desk, she took in the sight of the freshman year dorm room that she had shared with Connie Moreau at Eden Hall Academy.

Connie's side still looked as though someone actually lived there; Julie's side looked all but abandoned. A moving company had already shipped most of Julie's belongings back home to Maine, leaving her with nothing besides her Boston Bruins comforter, some clothes, and a few miscellaneous items.

Drawing open her crimson Warrior curtain, she looked into her closet for something to do.

Her TV and her video tapes had all gone home, but her copy of _The Alchemist_ remained – even if it had collected some serious dust; she had been meaning to read it for nearly a year, but schoolwork kept pushing the novel to the bottom of her seemingly endless to-do lists. With class and final exams out of the way, Julie supposed that now was as good an opportunity to read as she'd ever get.

Taking a deep breath, she blew the dust off the cover and made the short walk to her bed.

She hardly had gotten settled when the door burst open.

"Hey, Cat!" Connie called out. "Grab your blades and your pads – we've got roller hockey!"

 _Heh, I guess you can wait a little longer,_ Julie thought, settinng her book down and getting up.

After grabbing her gear, she followed her friend out into a picture-perfect June day. The lush trees, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the gentle warmth of the early summer sun enveloped Julie in a sensory cocoon that filled her with warmth as she skated with Connie to the school's athletic complex.

If the weather was this gorgeous back home, Julie figured that she might have to make _The Alchemist_ wait yet another year.

As the girls reached the outdoor basketball courts, they noticed that all of their teammates were already there, ready to go. Although the group's commitment to its studies was questionable, it was obvious that they didn't mess around when there was a good time to be had.

"Hey, Cat Lady!" Greg Goldberg called out. "Think you can beat me?"

The husky goalie had lost his starting spot to Julie earlier that year, and the experience had lit a competitive fire in him that had been quite absent in years past.

But Julie wasn't intimidated.

"I sure can, Goldie. I'll even let you have Banksie – as long as I can have Fulton and Guy."

"No Guy," Connie snapped.

The brunette forward was still smarting over the soap opera that had been her relationship with Guy that year.

"Well maybe Guy doesn't want to play with _you,"_ Charlie Conway shot back.

He then turned to Connie's ex.

"Go ahead, man. Your pick."

"Fulton," Guy announced.

And with that, two of the Ducks' three best scorers were on the same team. No way would Charlie allow Adam to join Guy's team. It looked like Julie would have to make good on her bluster. She felt confident…for the most part.

_But Adam's awfully good._

Looking him over, Julie felt her confidence melt away.

Not only was he supremely talented, he was magnetic.

Adam Banks was six feet and two inches of long, lean muscle, clear skin, and athletic perfection – topped off with sandy, curtained hair and a pair of sapphire eyes that could freeze magma with their beautiful intensity.

Sensing that he was being scrutinized, Adam looked over and caught Julie staring.

They both looked away in an instant.

"Adam," Charlie announced his pick.

Julie cursed her little exchange with Goldberg. Though this game would not count for anything official, Julie had as fierce a competitive streak as any of the Ducks. The only thing worse than losing was to look like a loud-mouthed fool in the process.

"Julie," Guy announced his pick.

_So Goldie gets Banksie after all. Not a problem. Nope, not a problem at all. I've still got two of the best on my side._

Taking her place behind Guy, Julie let out a small sigh.

_Still…Adam's awfully good._

The teams eventually took shape, with Guy, Fulton, Portman, Luis, Dwayne, and Julie on one side; and Charlie, Adam, Connie, Russ, Averman, and Goldberg on the other.

Pound for pound, Julie's team was the more talented one.

_Still…Adam's awfully good._

With Ken officiating, the ball dropped, and play began.

Guy won the faceoff and passed ahead to Dwayne, whose proficiency at dribbling pucks was surpassed only by his ability to dribble a ball. It reminded Julie that with a ball, she was going to be in for a lot more rebounds than she would have been with a pavement puck.

Dwayne continued to dribble as he bore down on Goldberg, only to have the ball snatched away by Adam – who took off in Julie's direction.

Now in the moment, Julie's pre-game nervousness had evaporated.

_Bring it._

Adam put on the brakes and fired – no, he faked. As Julie bit on the fake, Charlie took the ball and fired one past her.

The rest of the first-to-ten game continued in much the same fashion. Adam had only scored twice, but he had gotten six assists. As Julie observed Adam and his squad congratulate each other before shaking hands with their opponents, she realized the difference between a great player and a good player.

A good player could dominate a game. But a great player elevated the game of their teammates. That was Adam Banks' playing style in a nutshell. He was good enough to score almost at will, but he always facilitated more goals for his teammates than he ever took for himself.

"Better luck next time, Cat Lady," Goldberg chortled.

"Yeah, yeah."

Reaching the end of the line, Julie paused in front of Adam.

"Nice game, Julie."

"You scored twice on me."

"Yeah, and you saved six shots _on me_ ," he reminded her. "Take the compliment!"

Julie grinned softly at that. She had never been good at accepting compliments, though she loved hearing them.

"Thanks, Adam. And congratulations on _yet another_ Nintendo-like performance."

He blushed, or was he just flushed from the game? Julie couldn't decide.

Before Adam could reply, he and Julie were summoned by Charlie for one final team picture for the year. As the Ducks assembled on the bleachers, Charlie's girlfriend, Linda Tompkins, got into position to capture the team's latest Kodak moment.

"Julie, Greg!" She called out. "Take off your pads, let the people see you!"

"But goalies always wear their pads for team photos," Goldberg protested.

"C'mon, Goldie," Connie teased. "Take it off!"

" _Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!"_ The team chanted.

The Ducks let out a collective groan as Goldberg began a striptease with his pads.

"You people are so fickle," he huffed.

Julie, meanwhile, had removed her pads with considerably less fanfare.

"Everybody say 'shit'!" Portman instructed.

" _Shi-it!"_ They beamed.

Linda rolled her eyes at the 'cheese' substitute, but took the picture.

As a general rule, for every decent, proper photo that a team poses for, there also has to be at least one 'chaos photo'. Linda did not even have to say "go" before a cacophony of screams, gaggles, and giggles went up as Ducks fell over each other in crazy poses.

Julie never cared for this custom, so she hung back. Unfortunately, the Bash Brothers' nearby roughhousing caused her to tumble to the side. She lost her balance, then, for a terrifying split second, thought she was going to do a reverse belly-flop onto the pavement.

That's when she felt a large pair of mitts catch and steady her.

"Easy, there," Adam said, cradling the back of her head with one hand, and holding her waist with the other.

Julie was shocked, but managed a weak "thanks" as Adam gently set her upright again.

Linda's camera flashed; and like a sudden, violent tempest, the chaos passed.

When that particular photo got developed, Julie and Adam would end up looking like a couple of weary parents standing back in resignation while their kids put each other in headlocks and gave noogies and fake moonings.

After a final exchange of goodbyes, the Ducks grabbed their pads and began the separate trips back to their dormitories for last-minute packing. As Julie moved to join Connie, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Spinning around, she managed to suppress a gasp when she locked into a pair of sapphire orbs.

"Uh…hey," Adam greeted her, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, hello again. What's up?"

Before Adam could respond, Connie interjected.

"Heh, I'll just leave you guys to it, then."

And with that, the brunette forward took off on her blades in the direction of the dormitories. Adam shot Connie's back with a confused look.

"Ok…that was weird."

"Yeah, she's been weird," Julie chuckled. "You know, what with the Ducks going away for the summer and all. It's been hard for her."

"Oh, that makes sense."

The pause that followed could not have lasted more than a few seconds, but it seemed to languish for eternity as the quiet forward searched for the right words. While many of the girls at their school drew attention to themselves with fancy hairdos, and chic, expensive clothing, Julie Gaffney only needed a ponytail, a white T-shirt and a pair of little black gym shorts to reduce Adam Banks to a shy, awkward mess.

"So…you're going back to Maine, then?" He managed at last.

"Yep," she nodded. "I'll miss you guys, of course. But it'll be nice to see my family and my old friends again."

Another pause.

"Yeah…"

"Adam, are you ok?"

Now flustered, Adam's pace picked up rapidly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Never better, actually. Well, maybe I'm a little dehydrated…from the game, y'know? I probably should pound a Gatorade when I get back to my dorm…"

_Focus, Banks, focus – you're not gonna chicken out again._

"But before I do that…I was thinking," He reached into a pocket in his khaki cargo shorts and retrieved a blue notepad, "When you're not too busy with family and friends, maybe we could email or IM each other over the summer?"

He tore a piece of paper out of the pad and extended it toward her. On it, scrawled in uncharacteristically neat handwriting, was his AOL screen name. He had considered adding his phone number as well, but decided against risking over the telephone the awkward pauses that Julie seemed to arouse in him.

She took the piece of paper and nodded.

"Sure, why not? I probably should give you my info too."

Before she could say anything else, he handed her his notepad, along with a mechanical pencil.

"Just out of curiosity," Julie began, writing down her info, "You don't have a Swiss Army knife in any of your pockets, do you?"

He looked at her with a start.

"How did you know that?"

Julie giggled.

"You just seem like the kinda guy who likes to be ready for anything. Not everyone walks around with a notepad, y'know. "

Finished, she returned his notepad, even including her phone number, complete with area code.

"Thanks," Adam placed the pad back in his pocket. "So I guess I'll talk to you over the summer, then," he declared with a shy, but triumphant smile.

"Sure thing," Julie nodded. "Have a nice summer, Adam."

She wasn't sure how to say goodbye. A handshake seemed oddly formal, and a high-five was just plain goofy. So she went with a quick hug.

"See you in September!"

After releasing him from the hug, Julie took off for the dorms on her rollerblades.

Adam stood, alone on the basketball court, in stunned silence.

"See you in September," he said softly.

* * *

 "Over here, Dad!" Julie called to her father.

Steven Gaffney, standing in the crowded courtyard that separated the boys' and girls' dormitories, followed the sound of his daughter's voice. Standing at just under six feet, the 45-year old still had a thick head of brown hair that he allowed to gray at the temples for 'gravitas.'

Beneath his round, nickel-colored frames, his blue eyes lit up as he spotted Julie.

"There's my little girl!"

Before she could protest, Julie found herself swept off the ground and into her father's bear-like embrace. Rather appropriately, he was wearing one of his billowy UMaine polo shirts, the navy blue article helping to hide his paunch. Given his naturally slender frame, even a modest weight gain looked massive.

"It's nice to see you too, Dad," Julie offered, trying to pry herself away.

Eventually, he took the hint and set her back down.

"Come on," she beckoned him to follow. "I'll take you up to my room. There's not much left to grab, fortunately."

Steven got into step behind his daughter, who looked dressed for a jog, and followed her into the building. As they arrived at the stairway, Julie paused.

"You sure you can handle stairs?" She asked with a worried frown.

But Steven waved a dismissive hand.

"Of course I can, go on."

As a high school goalie, Steven Gaffney had possibly the fastest glove in all of New England. He had earned a full scholarship to Boston University, only to lose it the summer before his freshman year by shattering his knee in a motorcycle accident. Eventually, he had titanium put in the knee, but that presented more of a challenge in getting on airplanes than it did in going up stairs.

"Here we are," Julie announced, entering the nearly bare bedroom.

Steven frowned.

"It looks like I missed your roommate."

"Yeah, Connie and her parents left about twenty minutes ago."

"Oh well," Steven replied, grabbing a packed travel bag. "Hopefully I'll catch her on move-in day. Will I be meeting any boyfriends before we leave?"

"Dad!"

"Sorry, honey. Had to ask. You know, Dad Duty."

Julie grabbed another packed travel bag.

"No problem," she replied. "And I decline to answer. You know, Daughter's Prerogative."

"Heh, that's some education they're giving you here."

The father-daughter tandem began making their first trip back to the rental van. As they walked, Julie couldn't help but brood over her uncomfortable dating situation that her father had drawn attention to with his question.

She had no boyfriend, or even a potential one in her eyes. No doubt she was pretty – not too tall, not too short; a trim, athletic figure; naturally blonde hair; clear, fair skin that tanned surprisingly well; and a lovely pair of emerald eyes.

But Eden Hall was full of beautiful girls who didn't freak guys out by playing ice hockey. She had overheard the nasty 'butch' monicker applied to her on more than one occasion, and the few guys who seemed cool with her athleticism were her teammates and the Varsity goalie Scooter Vanderbilt.

And none of them had tripped over themselves to ask her out.

As they arrived at the van to load their cargo, Julie decided to change the subject.

"So how's Junior?"

"He's doing well," Steven nodded. "BU let out a couple weeks ago, so he's been home. He'll be going back though, for the summer conditioning program."

"And Mark?" Julie asked.

Steven cringed at the mention of his middle child.

"I'm gonna get him a summer job even if it kills me," he seethed.

Whereas Steven Gaffney, Jr – aka 'Junior' – was the model son, complete with full hockey scholarship to Boston University, his younger brother Mark was a constant thorn in their father's side. Having quit hockey after making varsity as a sophomore, Mark spent most of his time chasing girls and driving Steven up the wall. But Mark was their mother's favorite, so he got away with a lot.

"What about Mom?" Julie asked as they re-entered the dormitory.

"Good. She's grading state tests, which is why she couldn't be here, but she'll be done soon," Steven replied. "She'll be starting her novel back up soon."

"Heh, it's been what, twenty years now?"

"Twenty-five years," Steven corrected his daughter. "She's constantly improving as a writer, so she goes back and re-writes or eliminates her older chapters. At least that's what she says."

Karen Gaffney was the family matriarch. A high school English teacher and an aspiring novelist, the 45-year old had frequently been left to run the household alone – as Steven worked as a traveling business consultant. She also had an on-again/off-again novel project dating back to her days at the University of Maine, where she had met her future husband after he had lost his scholarship to BU.

After three intense years of working for McKinsey while based in New York, Steven returned to his hometown of Bangor, Maine with his new bride. He had established enough contacts to work independently as a consultant, and business usually was good for him – even if it left him feeling more like an uncle to his children than a father.

As Julie and Steven grabbed the last of her belongings, she took one last look around her freshman dorm. Steven noticed the wistful look in her eyes.

"You've really gotten attached to this place, haven't you?"

"Oh, no," Julie insisted, sensing sadness from her dad. "It's not like that. I'm looking forward to going back home. Honestly."

"It's possible to be both, sweetheart," he offered with a gentle smile. "I'm glad you like it here. I wouldn't want it any other way."

She let out a deep breath.

"We might as well hit the road."

"Sure," Steven agreed.

As they made their way back to the van, Steven tried to strike up conversation.

"I accept that I can't ask about boyfriends – but can I ask about regular friends?"

"Of course," Julie smiled. "They're amazing."

For the twenty minute drive to the airport hotel, Julie reminisced about her freshman exploits with the Ducks. She even gave a detailed account of the prank war with Varsity, a topic that she had always tiptoed around during her calls and emails home. Julie had broached the topic carefully, but when it became clear that she wasn't going to get into trouble over it, she made full disclosures. Steven was enjoying a rare conversation with his daughter too much to scold her over the pranks.

He actually admired her creativity both in procuring and in using a tank of liquid nitrogen.

 _My little girl could take Corporate America by the balls,_ he thought proudly.

And it was clear to him that the Mighty Ducks meant a great deal to his daughter; and based on the stories she told, they seemed to have her back. Steven only hoped that Julie's friends back home would make her feel welcome when she returned to Maine.


	2. Arriving Home

Dawn hadn't quite broken, but Julie and Steven were already racing to catch their flight. Bangor International Airport was big enough for the occasional flight to Toronto or Montreal, but not big enough to have a direct flight to and from Minneapolis. A layover at La Guardia in New York was on the itinerary, and the groggy teenager had every intention of sleeping for as much of the journey as possible.

If Steven had experienced any difficulties in staying awake during the small hours of the morning, they vanished as he felt a searing pain in his titanium knee. An oafish security guard had waved a handheld metal detector over the artificial knee, bringing Julie's dad fully into the present.

"Heh, I guess you weren't kidding about the knee thing," the guard chortled, observing Steven's anguish.

"No. He wasn't," Julie seethed.

"Come on, Julie – it's alright."

And with that, the pair of Gaffneys retrieved their carry-ons from the plastic trays that had passed through the scanner before moving into the terminal. Once through, Steven made a bee-line for the coffee shop, while Julie collapsed into a chair by their gate. The teenage goalie had found herself in that traveler's zombie state where she was too tired to read, but not quite tired enough to fall asleep and stay asleep. But she knew that she needed to stay awake long enough to board her plane, so she grabbed her portable CD player and cranked up the volume on her headphones.

The Savage Garden disc wasn't exactly high-octane stuff, but it was enough to keep the Sandman at bay.

"Here ya go, kiddo."

Steven had extended a styrofoam coffee cup toward his daughter, but Julie was clearly in a trance, so he settled in next to her and enjoyed two hazlenut coffees while awaiting the call for boarding. Julie, meanwhile, heard something about wanting and needing a cherry cola over her headphones. She could never quite make out the lyrics to this particular song even while fully conscious, but half asleep as she now was, it was a hopeless exercise.

Now comfortably seated with a generous infusion of caffeine, Steven got out his copy of _The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People_ and went to his happy place of corporate buzzwords and self-help.

* * *

 _"O-O-O-O'Reilyyyys!"_ Came the perky jingle over Adam's clock radio. _"Come on down to any O'Reilly's Discount Tire and get a free fourth tire when you buy the first three! Now through..."_

Extending a long arm, Adam switched the radio off and sat up in his bed. He wondered what the point of setting his alarm to the 'radio' setting was when he would only get commercials instead of music. But he supposed that even the annoying ads did the job. He was awake, after all.

He climbed out of his comfy Edina bed and hit the deck – beginning his morning with fifty push-ups before moving to put on his gym clothes. His star college hockey player of a brother, Michael, was home for part of the summer; and Adam was determined to spar with his hockey better while he still had the chance.

Walking over to his dresser, he grumbled over the few clean articles of clothing that he had to choose from.

But then, he wasn't exactly going to the Senior Ball, so he went ahead and threw on a white Dole/Kemp '96 T-shirt along with a pair of navy gym shorts.

It was still dark outside when he met his older brother on their family's long driveway. The blue eyes of Michael Banks shone brightly against the twilight backdrop as he watched Adam approach. Standing at six feet and four inches, and weighing in at 220 pounds, the delicately handsome features of Michael Banks belied both his brute strength and his considerable mean streak.

"You're late, cupcake."

"Save it, dickwad."

"Ooooh. Our Adam might just grow a pair after all."

The short, sandy hair of the University of Michigan sophomore was neatly in place; and he wore a navy-blue Wolverine T-shirt over his maize-colored Michigan shorts. It could have been 5 in the morning – which it was – or 5 in the evening, but Michael Banks would always look firmly in command and ready for anything. Adam, meanwhile, was wearing a T-shirt from a losing presidential campaign and could easily have done with another 2-3 hours of sleep.

 _"But you'll have plenty of time to sleep when you're dead,"_ Michael never ceased to remind him.

The elder Banks pulled an orange pavement puck out of his pocket.

"Full check – til sunrise. Or when you can't take anymore. Whichever comes first."

"Bring it on, Mikey Boy."

In two lightning-fast movements, Michael dropped the puck and threw Adam onto the pavement.

With Adam on his back, Michael barreled ahead toward the net. The Banks Boys' much-abused cardboard goalie was in place, but 'Puck Face' was hardly a match for the precision of Michael Banks, who could paint the corners of the net like Rembrandt. Adam planted his palms against the pavement and sprung to his feet, beginning a furious pursuit of his long-limbed brother. The younger Banks had definitely gained a step during the past year, and he closed the distance to his brother far quicker than the young man had expected.

Michael threw a hard elbow into Adam's gut.

Again, Adam did a reverse-belly flop onto the pavement.

_That dirty, cheating bastard.  
_

"That's a penalty!" He protested as Michael drew back and fired.

The puck neatly zipped through the 1-hole.

"And refs miss calls sometimes," Michael countered. "Adapt or die."

 _I had him. I_ had _him,_ Adam thought indignantly. _That fucking asshole._

His sapphire eyes burned with hatred, and their intensity appeared to startle Michael.

Adam grinned malevolently at Michael's reaction.

He thought back to that moment five years earlier, when, on that very spot, he had tortured Michael into submission with a pressure-point attack.

"Here," Michael tossed him the puck. "See if you can get it past me."

"With pleasure."

_Time to make that prick suffer._

Adam took the puck and began dribbling down the pavement toward his brother. Michael backpedaled as he closed in. One-on-one, there was no point in attacking at 'center pavement'. He was going to wait for Adam to get nice and close – leaving no room for him to escape.

Adam lowered his shoulder and charged forward. Then, springing back up, his shoulder connected with Michael's jaw; but the older Banks had anticipated the move and had spun to reduce the impact. Adam had clearly put too much into his furious charge, and Michael's spin-move had caused the younger Banks to lose his balance. He twirled awkwardly for a few seconds before crashing onto the pavement.

His kneepads absorbed most of the blow, but the side of his knee was exposed enough to cause a painful scrape.

The boy was hardly on the ground before he shot back up, dropping his stick and tossing his helmet away.

Michael repeated the gesture, and had every intention of punishing his brother for his hot-headedness.

 _Heart on fire, brain on ice...that's the way you play hockey,_ Michael thought.

But before Michael could teach Adam a lesson in cool-but-ruthless hockey, the lights on the Banks' front porch flickered on.

"What's all this?" Philip Banks demanded.

The boys froze at once.

Philip squinted forward, noticing the bloody gash on the side of Adam's knee.

"Well?" He demanded with folded arms.

"Just training, Dad," Michael explained. "Adam wanted to..."

"Your brother can speak for himself."

Adam briefly looked up to see their father. Although Philip was in a bathrobe and pajamas, the forty-five year old was not to be trifled with.

"Michael's right, Dad. I wanted to train with him."

Philip allowed Adam's response to hang in the air for a moment before delivering his verdict.

"Then you are both idiots," he declared. "May I _remind_ you, that you are both on scholarship? And that this sort of moronic dick-measuring contest puts said scholarships at risk? _Well?"_

"Yes, sir," Adam and Michael murmured.

"Put away Puck Face and get inside."

"Yes sir," the boys chorused again.

And with that, Philip switched off the porch light and went back inside.

"I guess I'll grab Puck Face and the net," Michael volunteered. "You better get inside and get that knee taped-up."

Adam nodded, moving to do just that. After taking off his roller blades, he pressed a hand against his wound and opened the front door with the other. As he made his way toward one of the upstairs bathrooms, he noticed his younger brother, Eric, brushing his teeth.

Though only thirteen, the youngest Banks was the cleverest Banks. Eric had already skipped two grades in school, placing him in the same level as fifteen year-old Adam. The fact that his baby brother was smarter than him and wasn't shy about reminding him was a constant source of irritation for Adam Banks.

After spitting and rinsing-out his mouth, Eric flashed a pearly grin at Adam.

"Got in trouble with Dad, eh?"

"Beat it, twerp."

And with that, Adam gave Eric a painful thwack upside the head.

"Oww."

"Move it."

The youngest Banks rubbed the tender spot on his head as he made his hasty escape.

* * *

Julie had fallen asleep almost immediately after takeoff. As the plane began its descent toward New York, she began to dream.

She found herself back at Eden Hall on a sunny day in late spring. Sitting alone on a wall separating a walkway from a grassy incline, Julie observed happy couples walking hand-in-hand past her. Charlie and Linda were among them. Connie and Guy appeared to have patched things up and were happily making their way toward some unknown destination.

And of course, Luis strutted by with a pack of gorgeous, adoring females in wistful pursuit.

Julie sighed.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Came a voice. "All those happy couples rubbing it in our faces?"

Julie looked up with a start to see Adam Banks standing over her.

"Yeah," she patted the space next to her, inviting him to sit, which he did. "Why are we expected to go out with people, anyway? It's so much simpler to be single, but they make me feel like a loser for not having a boyfriend…even if they don't realize it."

Adam nodded in sympathy.

"I don't get the whole 'couple thing' either. Something about two people making each other happier than they could ever be apart."

"Yeah, well they're full of crap."

Julie's heart warmed as Adam laughed. The boy was so quiet and serious that he seemed incapable of laughter, but the lovely sound was a surprise and a delight.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "It sounds kinda nice to me."

Julie sighed again.

"I'm sure it is…for the Beautiful People. I wouldn't know."

"You make it sound like you're not one of them. How could you possibly think that?"

"Are you suggesting that I'm beautiful?" She asked askance.

He looked saddened by her doubts.

"I guess I thought you already knew you were," he explained, wrapping an arm around her before pulling her close.

As she looked up to meet his sapphire gaze, he gently grasped her chin – drawing her face closer to his and closing his eyes.

Julie suddenly awoke as she was shaken.

"I'm sorry, honey," Steven offered. "But we're about to land, so you need to fasten your seatbelt."

She did as her father instructed.

"Have any pleasant dreams?"

Julie's lips twisted in confusion as she tried to make sense of what she had just experienced.

"A little pleasant," she answered. "A little weird too."

Steven's own sapphire eyes twinkled as he laughed.

"Ain't that the truth? Thoreau said 'Dreams are the touchstones of our character.' It would be nice if we had some control over them."

Julie gave her father a puzzled look.

"I've learned a thing or two from your mother over the years," he explained with a smile.

As the plane began to make its landing, he grabbed his daughter's hand out of habit.

* * *

As the plane flew from New York to Bangor, Julie tried to will the dream that she had about Adam to return to her.

Unfortunately, as her father pointed out, dreams cannot be controlled; and the effort prevented a still-sleepy Julie from really falling asleep. She wished that she could make sense of the whole thing. She hardly knew Adam from their shared experience on Team USA during the Junior Goodwill Games, but she had been struck by how the slight, quiet boy stood up to the much bigger Dean Portman when he referred to her as 'babe.'

At the time, Julie wrote this experience off as a guy sticking up for his teammate, as any decent teammate would.

And he was hardly around during most of their freshman year at Eden Hall, having been placed on the Varsity team while the rest of the Ducks remained on JV. Once he had returned, she noticed how tall and well-developed he had gotten, but he seemed like just another inaccessible beautiful person. Then again, he had given her his contact information and seemed eager to chat and write over the summer.

She massaged her temples and tried to evict Adam Banks from her mind, as these confusing thoughts were getting her nowhere.

"Everything alright, honey?"

Julie nodded.

"Everything's fine, Dad. It's just spending all this time in the air."

"I know _exactly_ what you mean. Flying is a necessary evil, but it's still an evil."

He looked at the miserly thimble of Johnnie Walker Black that a flight attendant had poured for him. There had been just enough scotch to cover the bottom of the small plastic cup, and he had almost forgotten about it. Flying was an essential part of Steven's job as an independent consultant, but he loathed the experience of clueless security guards hurting his knee and surly flight attendants begrudging him his complimentary drink. But his work provided a comfortable living for his family, and he was willing to suffer worse things for them.

"Uhhh-tention passengers, this is your captain speaking," came a voice over the PA. "We are now approaching Bangor, Maine. The local time is 2:45 pm. Please put your seats in the upright position and fasten your seatbelts. Thank you for flying with Delta today."

"Thank God," Steven declared before downing his half-shot of scotch.

"Amen," Julie replied.

This time, she grabbed her father's hand, making him smile.

* * *

As Julie and Steven left the terminal at Bangor International and approached the airport's waiting area, a familiar voice called out.

"Julie, Dad! Over here!"

She followed the sound of her brother's voice to see Junior Gaffney waving them over.

The nineteen year-old BU forward greeted his sister with a hug and his father with a handshake. He stood at six-one, and was 180 pounds of lean muscle. Combined with the blue eyes and diligent habits that he had inherited from his father, Junior would have been a natural catch were it not for his long, horse-like face.

"I guess there's no need for this, then," Steven put his brick-sized cell phone away. "Come on, Junior. After you help us with the bags, bring your car around."

Junior nodded, and locked into step with Julie as they followed their father to the baggage claim area.

"It's great having you back home, Sis," he lowered his voice so Steven couldn't hear. "I can handle Mom, and I can handle Dad, but the combination is a tough one."

"Heh, fighting over Mark again?"

Junior nodded.

"Yeah, Dad mentioned something about finding a summer job for him when he picked me up at Eden Hall. I'm sure that'll go over _real_ well with Mom."

"I don't know what Mom's problem is," Junior shrugged. "If I was half as lazy as Mark, she'd kill me. So I bust my ass, but she hardly recognizes that I exist."

"You're asking the wrong person, Junior."

Julie had been away in Minnesota and was no longer familiar with the particulars of her mother's confusing relationship with the Gaffney Boys.

“But if you ever need to vent, you'll know where to find me," she offered.

"Thanks, Sis."

"Ok guys," Steven spoke up as they arrived at the baggage carousels. "Eyes peeled."

After the trio had retrieved all of the bags and rolled them outside, Junior jogged ahead to the parking garage to bring his '92 Ford Explorer around. The blond hair of his boyhood had darkened into chestnut brown, and he kept it short enough so the wind couldn't mess it up. Once the silver SUV arrived at the loading area, Junior got out and helped his father and sister load it up.

"And away we go," Junior declared, starting his vehicle back up.

As they rode to the house, the trio happily discussed offseason moves for the Boston Bruins, and Julie even broached the sensitive subject of the Frozen Four. Junior's BU Terriers made it to the Championship Game, but came up short against North Dakota. He was confident he would be back though, and seeing her brother so excited made Julie feel good about being home for the first time.

* * *

Junior's silver Explorer made its way up the driveway to the stately colonial on the Penobscot River that the Gaffneys called home. Julie was about to take some of her stuff up to her bedroom when Steven stopped her.

"Don't worry about the bags. Junior and I will get them. You should go and say hello to your mother. She's probably in the kitchen."

"Right," Julie nodded.

She went ahead to the family's state-of-the-art kitchen – equipped with the latest appliances, cherry cabinets, and black granite countertops. She spotted her mother, Karen, plugging away on a typewriter at the kitchen table with a tea set nearby. Unbeknownst to Julie, Steven had given his wife a brand new laptop computer for her birthday that past April. But Karen flatly told him to return the $3,000 machine.

He ended up keeping it for himself.

Sensing a presence, Karen paused from her work and looked up.

"Julie, sweetie! Come here and give Mommy a kiss."

Karen didn't bother to get up, but made her daughter come to her. Karen was of medium height, had a slim frame that had gotten a bit bulky with age, and a full chest. She had dyed her long, naturally mousy hair a shade of dark brown, which had the effect of making her bright green eyes look like they were about to pop out of her pale face. She wore a long black shirt with a floral pattern and a pair of white capri pants.

Julie made her way over, leaned in, and pecked her mother on the cheek.

"Sit down, let me get you a cup of tea," Karen ordered/offered.

Julie sat down while her mother reached for her tea set and poured a cup. Apart from the green eyes and a stubborn independent streak, the Gaffney women had little in common. Karen was a hockey-hating English teacher who fancied herself a connoisseur with a passion for literature, art, and history. Julie, on the other hand, was a tomboyish hockey player whose best subjects in school were math and science.

Karen placed a full cup in front of her daughter.

"Go on, sweetie. Drink. I imagine you're parched from your long journey."

Julie nearly recoiled at the powerfully medicinal aroma that the concoction gave off. She had no idea what exactly was in it, but had no doubt that it was another original herbal blend of her mother's. Nevertheless, she took a sip and managed not to grimace.

"Good girl. Now, tell me all about your last month at school. You know, since your last call home."

Before Julie could reply, Steven had walked in.

"Hey, where's Mark? He should greet his sister."

"I imagine he's down at the dock," Karen shrugged theatrically. "It's his muse."

"His muse," Steven repeated with unmasked contempt.

He looked out the kitchen window toward the dock, and noticed Mark sunbathing in a black Speedo next to a bikini-clad girl.

"Mark has an artist's soul, _dear,"_ Karen explained. "Not everyone is meant to be put in a hockey uniform and given orders."

"Hey!" Julie snapped.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Karen patted her daughter's knee. "I didn't mean that negatively. What I'm _trying_ to say is that everyone has their own path, and it should be respected."

"I don't care what the boy does, Karen. I just don't want him to spend the entire summer on his back."

"How _dare_ you talk about Mark that way?!"

Karen shot up from the table and stomped over to her husband.

As the couple locked horns and began to argue about their middle child, Julie got up and retrieved a can of Moxie from the fridge before turning back to her parents.

"I guess I'll start unpacking."

But her parents continued as if they hadn't heard her.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a _thousand_ times," Karen hissed. "Mark. Is. Sensitive!"

"And as _I've_ told _you_ a thousand times, you're letting him take you for a ride."

"Oh, as if you know anything about our children. You're always on the road."

"Well, _someone's_ gotta pay for Mark's high life, cos the boy sure as hell won't."

"You make him sound like a no-good freeloader. He. Is. An. _Artist!"_

 _Yep. Unpacking my stuff actually_ would _be more interesting than this,_ Julie thought with an eye roll.


	3. Getting Settled

Julie walked into her Bangor bedroom for the first time since spring break – which had been two months earlier. The floral bedspread, matching drapes, and burgundy-painted walls had been chosen by her mother; and the solid oak drop-lid desk in the corner by the TV was a family heirloom from Karen's side. The room had little to do with Julie's own tastes, as all of her hockey-themed décor had gone with her to Minnesota.

Switching on the clock radio, she got to work unpacking to the sounds of 98 Degrees.

After rolling up the floral comforter and replacing it with the black-and-gold of her beloved Bruins, Julie took a sip of Moxie and noticed the new landscape paintings that her mother had hung in her absence. Setting her soda down, she inspected one of the paintings, and observed the characters 'MG 97' in the corner.

It appeared that Karen's championing of Mark as an artist had been at least somewhat grounded in reality.

Julie knew pretty much nil about art, but none of the paintings seemed all that good; so she removed them and stacked them onto the shelf in her closet, then proceeded to hang hockey posters in their place. Observing a conspicuously empty space over her desk, Julie grunted, annoyed that her mother had taken down her corkboard, but proceeded to fill it with photos of her and the Ducks once it was restored to its rightful place.

Eventually, with the unpacking and redecorating complete, Julie walked down the second story hallway into her father's home office.

Even Steven's own den bore Karen's signature with its Monet replicas and framed poems by Keats and Shelley. Steven's business and self-help books occupied just half a shelf on the large bookcase that dominated the side wall, while art appreciation books and Karen's selection of literary fiction accounted for the lion's share.

But the furnishing that Julie was most interested in was the family's desktop computer, which was free at the moment.

Taking a seat in her father's plush office chair, Julie fired-up the Compaq Presario, and swiveled boredly as the dial-up modem made loud, lengthy efforts to connect to the Internet.

_Why do they need to make the noise so jarring?_

Suddenly, the crashes and screeches came to a halt.

"Welcome!" Came the familiar AOL Man's voice.

_I'm in, baby!_

"You've got mail!" He continued.

She clicked on the email icon and discovered five unread emails. Four came from Ducks, all urging her to keep in touch and to let them know that she had arrived home safely. She obliged, quickly tapping out positive, identical replies to Charlie and Connie.

But Adam, who had sent two emails, including one that contained a link to an article discussing Cam Neely's rumored comeback, received a more personalized response.

_Dear Adam,_

_Thanks so much for the emails! I'm home in Maine, safe and sound, and I look forward to getting to know you better, even if it's long distance. It's been great seeing my Dad and my brother, Junior again._

_Mom and my other brother, Mark, are...ok, I guess, lol._

_I haven't run into any old friends just yet, but I'll keep you fully informed if you agree to tell me everything Duck-related!_

_That was a really cool article you sent me. Like any Bruins girl, I love me some Cam Neely, but having him come out of retirement to drag the Bruins out of the league basement seems a bit Disney-esque to me, lol. I guess it can't hurt to dream a little though._

_Hopefully we can chat soon!_

_Sincerely,_

_Julie._

She hit the send button, then clicked on her remaining unread email – from Claire Karsen, a Bangor friend from the sandbox days. It simply read:

_Hey Julie!_

_Let me know when you're back home. Your dock is great for tanning. See you soon!_

_-Claire_

Julie and Claire had been next door neighbors until three years earlier when the Gaffneys bought their home on the river. They had been near-obsessive best friends who knew all of each other's little secrets; but they had drifted apart in recent years, and not all on account of Julie being away at a boarding school. As the two girls entered their teens, Julie went down the hockey road, while Claire went down the girly-girl road. But they remained in contact, possibly out of a vague sense of loyalty, even though they had increasingly less in common.

_Once a friend, always a friend. Until they do something really horrible._

Julie sent off an equally terse reply, confirming that she was home and that if Claire wanted to do something, all she needed to do was call.

It bothered Julie that more friends from Maine hadn't reached out to her, but she figured that it was still early, and that there was nothing to prevent her from initiating contact. So she quickly fired off a group email to Emily, Lauren, and Katie – the inseparable trio of friends known as ELK – along with a few old teammates – Matt, Sean, and Chris – informing them that she was back in town.

With her 'administrative' tasks out of the way, Julie decided to kill some time by surfing the web when an instant messaging alert popped up.

_BanksNotBanksie wants to chat. Accept or decline?  
_

Julie realized that she had forgotten to add Adam to her buddy list, hence the alert. She hit the 'accept' button.

 **BanksNotBanksie:** hey Julie, what's up?

 **BangorCat06:** not much. Just got back home. I miss you already.

(Long pause)

 **BangorCat06:** I miss _all_ of the Ducks already.

 **BanksNotBanksie:** lol. I know, I didn't think you were singling me out.

 **BangorCat06:** Yeah. Would I be a terrible person if I said I wasn't all that excited to be here?

 **BanksNotBanksie:** nah, I understand. Being pulled away from your friends isn't fun. Believe me, I know.

 **BangorCat06:** Sorry about that, btw. It was kinda my idea to hit your locker the hardest during that liquid nitrogen prank.

(Long pause)

(Long pause)

(Long pause)

 **BangorCat06:** I'm really sorry, Adam. It was so stupid. Will you forgive me?

 **BanksNotBanksie:** haha. I think I just made the fearless Cat Lady sweat.

 **BangorCat06:** lol, you're a bad person (jk).

 **BanksNotBanksie:** anyway, it's cool.

"Hey, Julie."

She looked up to see Mark standing in the doorway, complete with an unbuttoned shirt and a black Speedo. The copper-skinned teen had definitely gotten plenty of sun, and his open shirt revealed a chiseled stomach and chest. His shoulder-length hair had gotten bleached, and it gave him a bit of a 'California surfer' look.

"Could you put away your balls when you talk to me, Brother Dearest?" Julie asked sweetly.

Mark rolled his hazel eyes.

"Whatevs. You gonna be much longer on that thing? I need to make a phone call."

"Is it to follow up on a job interview?"

"Cute. Now sign off before I yank the cable out of the modem."

"One second, please," Julie beamed, her fake sweetness almost aggressive.

 **BangorCat06:** sorry Adam, but my annoying slacker brother has to call one of his girlfriends. ttyl?

 **BanksNotBanksie:** of course.

Julie signed off.

"There. Phone line's all yours, Romeo."

Mark rolled his eyes again.

"The Act of Love is nothing to sneer at. And permanent virginity is nothing to aspire to."

Julie rolled her eyes at Mark's lofty tone.

_As if humping half of Bangor High is some friggin' virtue._

"Well, Brother Dearest, as much as I appreciate your wisdom, I think there's grass that I could watch grow."

She got up to leave.

"You don't have the looks to get away with being a bitch," Mark advised. "So work on that personalit-ee-ow!"

"Ooops," Julie shrugged, having 'accidentally' stomped on her brother's foot.

She made the short trip down the hall to her room and plonked down onto her bed, settling in for a _Ren and Stimpy_ marathon. Three episodes into it, she heard a knock at her door.

"Come in!"

"Hey, honey," Steven greeted his daughter. "Dinner's ready now if you want. Or you can eat after you go rollerblading with Sean."

Julie sat up with a start.

"Sean's here?"

Steven nodded.

"Thanks, Dad!" Julie leapt to her feet. "See ya later!" She added, giving her father a peck on the cheek before grabbing her rollerblades, and making for the front door.

"It's the Cat Lay-day!" Sean called out in his Rob Schneider voice. An old friend of Julie's, Sean had been a short, fat kid, but hit a growth spurt during his freshman year. The brown-eyed boy was now a taller, leaner 15-year old, and his soft bulk had been replaced by muscle. As a loyal defenseman, Sean was a natural ally of Julie's – both on and off the ice.

Julie wrapped her old friend in a hug.

"I missed you so much," a true sentiment, but one she had only just noticed. "Did you want to skate down to the park?" She asked, sitting down on the front porch steps to fasten her blades.

Shawn flashed a jagged-toothed smile. At only fifteen, he already looked like a grizzled old hockey player.

"You know me so well."

Julie strapped on her black bicycle helmet.

"Well, let's get going then."

The two friends took to the street on their rollerblades and talked about their respective hockey teams as they skated down the sleepy New England road toward Cascade Park. Despite Sean having remained in Maine and Julie having gone off to Minnesota, it struck her how similar their freshman experiences had been. The two of them had grown up on rowdy, fun-loving Pee Wee teams, only to find the high school experience much grittier. Julie's Coach Orion and Sean's Coach Andrews both ran much tighter ships than either of them had been used to.

"But I still wouldn't trade it for the world," Julie declared. "Hockey's more than a fun game for me. It's my…my…my…"

"Release? Stress-killer? Social life?"

"Yeah…" Julie reluctantly agreed. "It's all of those things, but it's also something more," she laughed slightly. "I almost wish I was more like my mom…she's much better with words. She'd know the right one to use in this situation."

"Julie Marie Gaffney!" Sean snapped. "I will _not_ stand by and listen to you say you want to be more like your _mother."_

Julie's old friend spat out the word 'mother' as if it was something poisonous.

"I didn't say I wanted to be like my mom in _all_ things," she chuckled. "At least I _hope_ that's not possible."

"But I know what you mean about hockey being a sanctuary," Sean nodded.

"Sanctuary!" Julie exclaimed. "That's the word! In between the pipes is the one place where I can really be me – and get cheers instead of weird stares."

Sean chuckled as he shook his head.

"Cat, you've found something you're great at that you love. If a few jealous people can't handle that, let them stare."

Julie smiled as the pair approached the trail leading to Cascade Park's famous water fountain. Between Sean, Junior, and her father, it was amazing how hockey players just seemed to get her. But then, Mark had played for a while – even helping her to get started in the net by practicing shots on her.

She sighed, realizing that simply bringing more hockey players into her life was not an automatic guarentee of happiness and understanding.

The two old friends approached a bench.

"You still like to people-watch, Cat?"

She nodded.

"We've still got time before the sun sets," Sean declared, taking a seat on the bench.

Julie joined him.

She had always loved to sit and observe strangers, then try to surmise their moods, their hopes, their fears, and their dreams. It was a highly subjective activity, but one which required a keen attention to detail, something that Julie felt sharpened her mind, making it better-equipped to read and anticipate the subtleties of opposing forwards as they tried to get the puck past her.

Sean observed two older teenagers, who appeared to be a couple, walking past them.

"Whaddaya make of those two, Julie?"

"Hmm. They're probably a couple, but not a happy one. Her arms are folded, suggesting that she is not interested in what her boyfriend is trying to tell her. _He_ looks like he's gone and gotten himself into a bit of trouble. The eager eyes, the expressive hand gestures...they're practically begging her to hear him out."

Sean nodded.

"But she ain't bringin' down that wall. No, ma'am. Final observation?"

"Relationships suck," Julie declared. "Much better to be friends."

"Heh, preachin' to the choir, Sister.”

* * *

Julie awoke to the sound of NSYNC on her clock radio, and quickly switched it off before it could wake anyone else up.

She slid a pair black yoga pants on over her bare legs and quickly threw her dark blonde hair into a ponytail. After making her bed, she crept out of her room and down the upstairs hallway toward her father's den. She hoped to get some Internet time in before breakfast.

As she got closer, she could hear the soft sounds of classical music from the other side of the door. She didn't know the piece, Vivaldi's _The Four Seasons_ , by name, but she recognized the set of violin concertos as one of her father's favorite pieces of music. She knocked softly on the door.

"Come in!" Commanded Steven from the other side.

Julie opened the door to discover her father seated at his writing desk, typing something on his laptop. He wore a blue, broadcloth bathrobe over his gray pajamas, and his messy sleep hair evidently had not been showered or combed. He paused from his work and looked up at his visitor.

"Ah, Julie. Come in, honey. What can I do for you?"

He took a sip of strong black coffee from his Boston Dad mug.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Julie offered. "I didn't even think you'd be awake. May I use the desktop, please?"

"Of course. I'm just drafting a few recommendations for some clients. Go right ahead."

"Thanks."

Julie grabbed the spare chair sitting by the window and placed it in front of the desktop while Steven resumed his work.

After the lengthy process of logging on, Julie was greeted with a dozen new emails, mostly from Ducks, but also one from her Bangor friend Emily, and her former Maine teammate Chris. Charlie and Connie had thanked Julie for replying, and invited her to stay in touch. Julie, in turn, sent them brief, positive replies. Several other Ducks, including Averman, Fulton, Guy, Ken, Luis, and Portman had sent Julie emails similar to the ones she had received the day before, expressing hope that she had a pleasant trip and that they would stay in touch over the summer.

The email at the bottom of the unread ones, indicating that it had been the first one sent, came from Adam.

_Hey Julie,_

_Your comment about a Neely comeback sounding too Disney-esque made me laugh. You're probably right, too. Hockey is such a fast and precise sport that it is very difficult to come back and perform at a top level when you've been away from it. I mean, just think how rusty we all are when we come back from a break at school. It must be even worse if you've been away from it for a full year, as Neely has._

_But fear not, Bruins Girl._

_You've got a good organization with some real depth in the farm system, so I doubt you'll be in the League Basement for much longer. Your boys still have a long way to go before they can run with my Stars though :p_

_I also enjoyed our chat yesterday, even though it was really short. Too bad you got cut off by your brother. I've got a little brother, Eric. He turned 13 last February. He can definitely annoy the crap out of me because he's so smart and is not shy about reminding me. He has already skipped two grades and will be starting his sophomore year of high school at some special day school for geniuses in St. Paul._

_So yeah, he's two years younger than me and in the same grade…I should be more proud of him than I am._

_I also got a big brother, Michael. He plays hockey at Michigan, and was one of the top high school recruits in the entire country. I guess I should be proud of him too, but boy does he make that difficult._

_But if I learned one thing from Freshman year at Eden Hall, it's that friends come and go. For better or for worse, family is forever._

_So we might as well try to get along better with our brothers._

_As for the Ducks, our Captain is already hard at work planning the team reunion. He thinks my house is just perfect for a pool party. I'm not sure my parents would agree, but I better try to persuade them, because Charlie will probably show up at our house with all the Ducks regardless of whether or not Dad gives him the 'ok.' Connie misses you a lot, no surprise there. Guy misses Connie, which is even less of a surprise. I think you should use your girltalk powers to convince Connie to take him back…he's really nice, and he's crazy about her. And I know not a day goes by where he doesn't regret what happened._

_Please stay in touch. Seeing that unopened mail icon next to your screen name is the highlight of my day!_

_Sincerely,_

_Adam_

Julie took a moment to look over Adam's email, and was surprised by its length. It certainly did not _feel_ like a long read to her, and she was somewhat disappointed when she reached the end – as though she had stepped out of a warm shower and into a dreary day. She found the content of the email so absorbing, and her life back home so dull by comparison, that she had no idea how to respond to it in an interesting way.

Deciding that she had better give Adam some kind of response if she wanted more of these nice emails, she hunkered down and got to work.

_Dear Adam,_

_I'll make a Bruins fan out of you yet. At least you won't have to worry about them moving to Dallas and stomping all over your heart! Honestly, how can you root for a team that left you for a city and a state that is obsessed WITH FOOTBALL? Such a boring sport, football. Way too many pauses and weird rules for me. I'll take hockey any day, and year round if that was possible!  
_

_I guess you're right about family being forever. Mark is really artsy... and I'm really not artsy. We haven't had much in common since he quit hockey, but I probably should try harder to take an interest in his interests, even if he can be a jerk sometimes. (Ok, a lot of the times). That's cool about your brother being a genius, lol. I guess it's awkward for you being in the same grade as a 13-year old, but like you said yourself, you should be proud of your brother._

_No kidding about Michael and Michigan? My brother Junior plays for Boston University. Maybe they'll cross paths._

_Your little Duck update made me laugh! I can definitely picture Charlie inviting the team over to your place on your behalf. If you need to talk your parents into going along with it, just explain to them the importance of team chemistry. If your dad is anything like mine, he'll understand!_

_I miss Connie too, and don't worry, we keep in touch. I'm not familiar with the 'girltalk' dialect you speak of. I know it exists, but it might as well be Japanese to me, lol. But as nice as Guy is, I'd hate to see him treat Connie like a backup option after his little fling with the other girl fell through. So he can twist in the wind a bit more if he really wants to be with Connie again._

_Hope to hear back from you soon!_

_Take care,_

_Julie_

_PS: loved that line about the unopened mail :)_

After a quick proof-read, Julie hit the send button, satisfied that her response would earn her another email from Adam Banks. She was especially pleased that she hadn't needed to include any boring details about her home life. It struck her as odd that she fretted about boring Adam, a guy she still only barely knew.

But before she could give that too much thought, she was disturbed by her mother's hollering from downstairs.

"BREAKFAST IS READY!"

Steven did not need to be told twice. He had gotten up early, as usual, and had worked up quite an appetite. He hit a few keys, closed his laptop, and made for the office door.

"Better get moving, honey," he warned Julie. "Otherwise you'll be left with the scraps that three men leave behind."

"Heh, good point," she agreed.

After signing off, she followed her dad down the stairs and into the kitchen. The pair was greeted with the smell of eggs and sausage as Julie observed Junior already seated and beginning to dig in.

Karen slapped her eldest child's hand in reproach.

"Mind your manners, young man," she huffed before casting an adoring glance toward Mark, who left his plate untouched. "Like Mark."

"Dig in, Junior," Steven called out to his son. "No need to wait for us."

Karen glared at her husband for contradicting her, but kept quiet as Junior began eating. Unlike her husband and children, Karen was already showered, dressed, and ready to attack the day. Being left alone most of the time to raise three children over the years had made the Gaffney matriarch quite structured, and despite her artistic pretensions, she despised idleness.

Unless it came in the form of Mark, who she felt needed frequent rest and recuperation in order to replenish his 'artistic talent'.

"So, have you thought about a summer job, sweetie?" Karen asked Julie as the latter sat down with a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage and a slice of cantaloupe.

"And while you're on the hunt, maybe you could throw a lead or two Mark's way," Steven suggested as he refilled his coffee mug, earning yet another glare from his wife.

Julie looked up at her mother. Karen's piercing green eyes demanded the correct answer.

"Actually, I was hoping that Mark could teach me about painting," the goalie answered, earning a startled look from her mother and a horrified look from Mark.

"Oh...well, good," Karen nodded.

She had never sensed any artistic talent in her daughter, but Karen figured that it wouldn't hurt Julie to develop some sort of artistic appreciation, if nothing else.

_Anything to counter that barbaric hockey spirit._

Mark glared at his sister, annoyed that he would have to do some form of work, however 'artistic,' and spend time with Julie instead of one of his rotating girlfriends down on the dock.

Junior gave Julie a warm smile, proud of his little sister's coup, while Steven fought back the urge to lecture Julie on the importance of earning and appreciating the value of a dollar. But the businessman decided to cut his little princess some slack.

_She certainly won't get any from her mother, that's for sure._

"So how's the novel going, dear?" Steven asked his wife.

He was keenly aware that he had started out the day on the wrong foot with Karen, and their argument over Mark the previous day didn't help either. So he decided to let his wife be a little self-indulgent and discuss her masterpiece-in-progress.

"Well," Karen began, "One of the dream sequences has turned out a little longer than I expected…twenty pages. But I feel that the breadth of the dream, along with its erotic undertones, were a necessary exposition of a crucial supporting character…"

Julie hoped like hell she would never have to read her mother's tome. If it was even half as ridiculous as Karen described, the young goalie would rather spend a weekend tied to a chair and being forced to watch girly movies.

She felt a bony elbow gently poke her in the ribs. Looking to the side, she saw Junior lean in to speak to her.

"When Mark is done helping you... _discover yourself..._ wanna hit the town?"

Julie eagerly nodded. She hadn't been home for long, but the urge to leave the house was already a strong one.

As she got up to put her plate in the dishwasher, the phone rang.

"I'll get it," she offered, given that she was the only one standing. "Hello?"

"Julie, hey. It's Claire," Julie's original best friend began. "Sorry if it's kinda early, but I talked to ELK yesterday, and they really wanna come over to your place. It's supposed to be an amazing day for tanning."

Julie looked over at Mark, who played the part of the starving artist by playing with his food rather than eating it.

She supposed that her tutoring sessions with her pretentious brother could wait another day.

"Sure, come over in a couple hours."


	4. Sandbox Friends

Julie hung beach towels over the backs of several wooden lounge chairs down on her family's dock. The dock was a large rectangle, with a boatlift housing the Gaffneys' 24-foot deck boat in the middle, and a separate Jet Ski lift over on the far end. The water around the dock was about six feet deep, but got dramatically deeper just twenty feet out – a reminder that the North Atlantic was a mere boat ride away.

When she was a little girl visiting Maine's rocky, lighthouse-dotted coastline, Julie's dad liked to tell her that Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower could be seen if she squinted hard enough. When Little Julie finally determined that this was an impossible task, she informed Steven – with the absolute seriousness of a toddler – that Daddy would have to take her to England and France because the squinting didn't work.

_Heh, he never told me to squint after that._

Returning to the present, Julie finished her tanning preparations by leaving a few bottles of sun screen on a wooden end table. Like the chairs, the dock's tables were hand-made by her late carpenter of a grandfather. They were faithfully sanded and stained every spring by Steven and Junior, a tradition that Julie's presence in Minnesota excluded her from.

 _But if I was here, would I_ really _wanna do that work?_

Deciding that reverence was easier to think about than to practice, Julie made her way up the steps and around the house to the front porch.

She saw her reflection in the storm door on the house's main entrance, but quickly looked away. Her dark blue bikini was covered by one of Junior's white, extra-large Boston University T-shirts that fit her like a nightgown. She was not used to walking around so scantily dressed, but her girlfriends wanted to come over and tan, so it would look weird if she didn't join in. Before she could enter the house, Julie heard a vehicle approach.

Turning around, she observed a wood-paneled Plymouth Voyager make its way up the driveway.

 _That'll be the girls_.

Expecting her friends, she jogged down the steps to greet them.

"Hey, Julie!" Sue Karsen smiled from the driver's seat of the van.

Julie immediately recognized Claire's mother, whose naturally brown hair had mostly grayed, only to be dyed blonde.

"Hey, Mrs. Karsen," Julie then looked around as four girls emerged from the van. "Hey guys!"

She turned back to the driver.

"Do you wanna come in? I'm sure Mom would love to share some tea with you."

But Sue cringed at the thought of choking down one of Karen Gaffney's herbal blends.

"Thanks, dear. I think I'll pass though," she then looked to Claire, who was now standing next to Julie. "And Claire, just call me when you're ready to be picked up."

The comely sophomore nodded.

"Thanks, Mom!"

Claire was already in her turquoise bikini top and wore a pair of denim shorts to cover the matching bottom. It looked to Julie like her old friend already had a nice base for tanning, which prompted a tinge of jealousy.

 _I'm whiter than a fish's belly_ , Julie cringed.

In addition to her moca skin, Claire also had attractive blonde highlights in her long, brown hair. Had she attended Eden Hall, the tall, brown-eyed bombshell would definitely have qualified for a seat at the Beautiful People's table.

"Alright, you girls have fun!" Sue offered before carefully backing out of the driveway.

Julie suddenly felt herself getting squeezed by Claire.

"It's so great to finally see you! It sucked how we couldn't hang out in the spring."

Spring break at Eden Hall had not coincided with spring break at Bangor High, which meant that the two old friends had not seen each other since around Christmas.

Julie returned the embrace with a nod.

"Yeah, I missed you…all of you," she looked around at Emily, Lauren, and Katie – ELK – to include them in her words.

She was relieved to discover that Emily, Lauren, and Katie were about as pale as she was. The goalie even felt a bit of guilty pleasure over the likely prospect that auburn-haired Lauren would turn red in the sun. Bangor High was full of pale faces during the school year, but during the summer, the ability to tan rather than burn was a symbol of elite status.

The ELK girls all stood around Julie's height at five-six, while Claire stood at five-ten.

 _No doubt_ those _get a lot of attention from the boys,_ Julie thought, scanning her friend's long legs.

Although Claire was 'the Pretty One' in their little clique, Julie doubted that either of her blonde friends – Emily and Katie – or red-haired Lauren for that matter, had any difficulty in attracting guys.

After a quick exchange of hugs with ELK, Julie led her friends down to the dock. It was 11:30 in the morning, and with hardly a cloud in the sky, the tanning conditions were ideal. The girls stripped off their street clothes and applied just enough sun screen to keep things safe, then laid out their towels before absorbing the warm, golden rays.

"So Julie, any hot guys on your team?" Claire asked once they were all settled.

"Aw, yeah. That's gotta be the best part about playing hockey!" Emily enthused. "All those hot, hockey-ripped dudes walking around topless in the locker room…"

"Stop, you're making me jealous!" Lauren protested.

"Just think of all those poor girls at school," Katie began. "They can't compete with Julie's inside track to all those studs," she peered over her shades as she turned to Julie. "I hope you're not keeping them all to yourself, Julie. Share the wealth!"

The goalie rolled her eyes beneath her sunglasses. After all of the compulsory small talk, the first question out of her friends' collective mouth was about guys.

"They're definitely great players," she declared. "Our captain, Charlie, has this really quick triple deke that no one else can mimic. And we've got a defenseman, Fulton, whose slap shot is so powerful that just its ricochet can knock a man out cold; we've also got another defenseman, Russ, who has this knucklepuck that changes directions and drives goalies crazy…"

Julie trailed off as she observed her friends' reactions.

 _They look like I have lobsters crawling_ _out of my ears._

"Uh…yeah. That's cool, I guess," Claire offered. "But I meant more along the lines of what they look like, not how they play."

ELK murmured in agreement.

"Well...they're all ok, I guess," Julie shrugged. "No weird deformities. Most of their teeth are still in place. And I haven't noticed any scar tissue, either."

Claire laughed.

"Ok, maybe Minnesota hockey boys aren't hot like Maine hockey boys. I guess you don't have a Chris Powell out there."

"He's yummy," Emily agreed.

"I would," Lauren nodded.

"Puberty's done that boy good," Katie declared.

Bemused, Julie laughed out loud.

"What, Pee-Pants Powell? He's really what you guys consider 'hot'?"

"Oh come on, Julie. You know those stains weren't _really_ pee stains," Claire shot back. "He was just really clumsy. He still spills drinks even now, actually."

"Hey, I love Pee-Pants like any teammate," Julie insisted. "In fact, I _always_ talked to him even when you four wouldn't give him the time of day."

"Yeah...but he's like _hot_ now," Claire pointed out.

" _And_ he's got a car," Emily added.

Julie rolled her eyes again.

_It's so easy to be a boy. If you can drive, and you don't look like the troll under the bridge, you're golden._

"Hello, _ladies,"_ Mark called out suavely as he carried his battery-powered boom-box over his shoulder.

Junior tagged along behind his younger brother, a pair of red gym shorts resting on top of the hard blue cooler that he carried.

Julie grumbled as Mark approached. His appeal to girls – in addition to being a source of genuine mystery to Julie – was another example of life's unfairness.

"Markey!" Claire squealed with delight.

She got up and gave the bronze-skinned Gaffney boy a hug that made Julie cringe.

_Too close, Claire. Too close._

"M' lady," Mark bowed and kissed Claire's hand like a 'gentleman.'

ELK looked on with jealousy as their friend received the attention of arguably the hottest senior at Bangor High. Mark wore an open, white button shirt along with a pair of dressy, cream-colored shorts and brown sandals. Fair-skinned Junior, by contrast, wore black gym shorts, gray sneakers and a white Boston University T-shirt identical to the one that Julie had been wearing.

"I figured you lovely ladies could use some liquid refreshment," Mark declared, gesturing toward the cooler. "And I brought along a CD that I'm sure you will find most soothing." He brushed a strand of blond hair out of his face before switching on the CD player.

Junior rolled his eyes as the New Age music began to play.

_It's like our dock is his spa._

It had in fact been Karen's idea to bring water down to the dock, but Mark could never resist an opportunity to hit on scantily-clad sophomores. Junior noticed that Julie was still laying on her towel as her friends swarmed around Mark. The elder Gaffney boy grabbed a chilled bottle of water along with the red gym shorts, then headed over to his sister, who was lying belly-up in her bikini.

"Catch, Sis," he tossed the bottle over to Julie, who grabbed it out of the air with one hand. "Nice one, Cat," he said with a buck-toothed grin.

"You never _could_ get anything past me, Junior," the goalie teased, sitting up and opening the water bottle.

Junior nodded.

"You were the best preparation for college hockey that I ever could've asked for," he offered, dragging a lounge chair. "You even made Casanova over there a semi-decent forward."

Julie looked over at Mark, who was laying down and accepting a massage from Claire. Unbeknownst to Julie, all four of her friends had fiercely contested that privilege. Mark prevented a catfight only by allowing the girls to take turns, beginning with Claire.

"I've never seen such a good player just walk away from it," Julie sighed.

"Meh," Junior shrugged. "A: Mark wasn't _that_ good, B: he doesn't miss his playing days, so you shouldn't miss them on his behalf, and C: he's hardly deprived," the BU forward added with a bitter laugh.

"It's hard _not_ to miss those days," Julie protested. "He was so much easier to deal with back then."

Junior laughed out loud, causing his sapphire eyes to sparkle.

"I guess you've got a point there."

Julie stood up and reached for her T-shirt, satisfied that she had gotten enough sun. As she turned back to face Junior, she was greeted with a pair of red gym shorts that nearly hit her in the face. But it was nothing that her catlike reflexes couldn't handle.

"Have I ever told you that you're the world's best brother?" She asked, sliding the shorts over her bare legs.

"Not lately, but a little reminder never hurt anyone."

Julie giggled.

"Well, you are. Just don't let that go to your head. I don't need another Mark in my life."

"Got it," Junior nodded. "By the way, my offer to drive you into town still stands."'

Julie finished the last of her water, then nodded.

"Thanks, I'd like that…right after scoring drills."

Junior's eyes lit up in excitement.

"You don't have to."

The goalie looked over at her friends. It was now Katie's turn to massage Mark.

"Believe me, there's literally _nothing_ that I'd rather be doing right now."

"Alright," Junior agreed. "Grab your pads and your blades, then. And try not to cry after I've embarrassed you."

"Ha! Let's just see if _you_ can keep your eyes dry, after I've shut you down… _yet again."_

"What was that?" Junior asked rhetorically. "I can't hear you, I'm too busy beating your ass to the driveway!"

The BU forward was out of his chair and off to the races.

Julie laughed, then got up and gave chase to Junior. She had no idea why girls idolized the Mark Gaffneys of the world while ignoring the fun, loyal, and good-nautred Juniors. The blue-eyed Gaffney worked his heart out to be the best player that he could possibly be, and in all the years that Julie had known her brother, she could only remember a couple times when she actually heard him complain about something.

If she had to end up in one of those horrible relationship thingies, she hoped to be lucky enough to be 'trapped' with someone like Junior.

* * *

 

The hour of blocking Junior's shots in the driveway flew by when they were forced to stop to allow a pizza delivery boy access to the driveway.

"Tell everyone that pizza's here!" Karen called from the front porch after paying the delivery boy.

Julie looked to her brother.

"Could you do that please? I really don't like seeing Mark and my sandbox friends feel each other up."

Junior chuckled.

"No sweat, Sis."

He turned and jogged back toward the dock while Julie made her way to the garage to put away her sports gear before heading up to the house.

Eventually, the seven sun-kissed teenagers made their way into the Gaffney dining room to find two sheet pizzas, a large bowl of freshly-tossed salad, and chilled cans of Moxie waiting for them.

 _Ah teenagers: the easiest people in the world to feed,_ Karen mused, standing in the archway that led back into the kitchen.

"Eat up, everyone," she cheerfully commanded the group.

The Gaffney matriarch was in a good mood now that she was on 'kissing terms' with her husband again. With Steven about to jet off to Philadelphia on business, it was that time in their relationship cycle when the couple kissed and made up. Then, Steven would depart and they would miss each other. Invariably, he would return home, they would argue, then kiss and make up in time for him to fly somewhere else.

Karen turned back into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of champagne along with two flutes, then made her way down to the dock to join her husband.

Mark shuddered at his mother's giddiness.

_If there's a minimum age for consent, there should be a maximum age as well.  
_

But the sight of the champagne bottle inspired a bit of witty banter.

"You know, the French have a little saying to help open a bottle of champagne the proper way," Mark declared.

Julie's friends trained attentive gazes onto him. They were less interested in what was being said, than the fact that an interesting person was talking.

"They say, 'a cork should sigh like a contented woman, not pop like a contented man'."

The girls laughed.

"Where do you learn all this stuff?" Claire asked, stroking Mark's bronze forearm.

"I actually learned that last bit over spring break, in France's Champagne Department."

 _"Wow,"_ the girls murmured, impressed with his worldly sophistication.

Julie knew for a fact that Mark's French class never left Paris, but she decided not to call her brother out on his BS, doubting that her friends would believe her anyway. Instead, she turned to Junior.

"On your double stick-side fake, you're hesitating for about half a second," she declared. "It gives me time to recover and block."

Junior smiled, grateful for the honest feedback and the chance to sharpen his game.

"Thanks, Sis. You did really well. I mean, I play for one of the top college programs in the country and you _still_ gave me fits."

"Then get better."

"I will," he chortled. "If you promise to take a compliment every once in a while."

Julie blushed at the truth of her brother's response. She seldom got compliments, so she handled them awkwardly.

"Sorry, I'll try to get better at that.

"Don't worry about it," Junior re-filled his plate. "When you're done eating, hit the showers and change into something nice. Where I'm taking you, you'll wanted to dress to impress."

"Oh?"

But Junior was too busy shoveling pizza into his mouth to elaborate. Julie watched her brother, somewhat in wonder, as he devoured his second full helping. In health class, the teacher had told her that puberty gives teenagers a voracious appetite. At nineteen, Junior was probably past that, but he was a frightfully active hockey player who spent most of his free time training. The only other person she had seen eat like that was Goldberg, but no one would ever accuse him of excess training.

"Why aren't you eating?" Junior asked his sister. "Your body needs the energy."

"Heh, what – are you gonna tell me that pizza is 'packed with nutrients'?"

Julie could never forget Goldberg's nutritional advice, but Junior shrugged.

"In a weird way, it kinda is," he replied. "You've got your veggies and your proteins, and of course your carbs. Plenty of Vitamin D in the cheese."

"Ok, you sold me," Julie chuckled, reaching for another square. "So where are we going that requires me to dress up?"

"You'll see."


	5. Brotherly Love

Julie moved to grab a pair of peridot-studded earrings before pausing in front of the long mirror that lined the inside of her bedroom door. The afternoon's sun was already beginning to work its magic on her skin, and her white U-neck and khaki skirt were complemeted by a lovely bronze glow. Tossing her hair back, she popped her earrings into place and wondered where exactly Junior planned on taking her. He had insisted that she "dress to impress," and this sent her mind racing about their destination. 

An old lumber town of 30,000 in northern Maine, Julie's hometown was not exactly chic. Were it not for the presence of bestselling author Stephen King, Steven Gaffney probably would have been the richest man in Bangor. But in spite of her family's status as local nobility, Julie almost never felt the need to get dolled-up before going out in public.

After running a brush through her long, and increasingly blonde hair, she decided to kill some time by surfing the net. She entered her father's empty den and fired-up the desktop, then began a frantic search for the remote control to the den's sound system as she heard a blood-curdling giggle from the other side of the wall.

_"Oh, Steven!"_ Karen shrieked with delight.

"Come on, come on – where are you?!" Julie beseeched the remote control.

She rolled across the den in the swivel chair, her hands racing across Steven's cluttered writing desk in pursuit of her plastic savior.

More giggles, followed by panting.

_Ok, no time for niceties,_ Julie decided.

She got up and moved to activate the sound system manually, only to discover that the remote was resting on top of the stereo.

_Whatever, dude._

But Julie's relief gave way to horror as the sultry sounds of Barry White filled the room.

_No - this'll only_ encourage _them!_

She pushed buttons at random, landing on some piece of classical music that she couldn't name.

_Good enough,_ she figured, cranking up the volume.

Now impervious to the horrors on the other side of the wall, Julie got back into her chair, rolled over to the desktop, and began signing on to AOL.

For the next several minutes, the smooth sounds of classical music were punctuated by loud screeches and wails as the dial-up modem struggled to connect to the Internet. Julie thought she was just about in when she again heard the sound of dial-tones, followed by more waiting. Then, silence. Long, unyielding, and uninformative silence.

_Is this thing working or not?_

"Welcome!" Came the AOL Man's voice.

_Finally!_

"You've got mail!"

Julie wondered if some brilliant computer person would ever invent a way of connecting to the Internet that didn't involve throwing away an entire evening as she clicked on the mail icon. One unread message from Adam Banks.

She was startled that he had already responded to her email from that morning. Surfing the web was not the sort of thing that people did all day long – especially driven, dedicated young athletes like Adam Banks. She hoped that everything was alright with him.

_Dear Julie,_

_To be honest, I really don't know why I still root for the Stars. Most people here think they can go to hell after they left, but for some reason I just can't give them up. I don't know…I wish I had a better answer for you than that, but it's the truth. And I agree with you about football. Those freaking pauses are bad enough on TV, but they're even worse in person when the game just suddenly stops for no apparent reason. But at least with TV there's always a chance that you can see a funny ad. I love the Budweiser frogs._

_It's interesting that you have an artsy brother. That stuff always went in one ear and out the other with me. Occasionally I'll hear some art expert talk and they just blow me away with all of the hidden meaning and symbolism that they pick up out of nowhere. I don't know…maybe it's all BS. I find it kind of impressive though. Maybe you could teach me how to understand art when you get back? I don't know how good a teacher your brother is, but it sounds like it could be interesting._

_And you're right about Eric. He is a genius and I should be proud of him. I'm definitely working on being nicer to him. Hopefully you and Mark can come to some sort of understanding too._

_Sorry for leaving such a short response, but I felt like I should write you something in reply, even if not much is happening here. I really like hearing from you and don't want you to feel ignored._

_Sincerely,_

_Adam_

Julie had in fact been disappointed by the brevity of this email, but had no idea why. She knew that Adam didn't owe her lengthy emails on a daily basis, but she found it striking that he seemed to think he had some kind of duty to keep in touch. She hoped that she wasn't burdening him, and wasn't sure how to respond.

In any event, her response would have to wait. Looking up from the computer, Julie saw Junior waiting for her in the doorway.

"Ready to go, Sis?"

"Yep."

With a few quick taps of the mouse, Julie was off the Internet and the computer was shutting down.

_Why can't signing_ on _be this fast?_

After switching off the stereo, she joined her brother in the hallway, then followed him down the stairs.

Junior was wearing a crisp navy blue polo, a dressy pair of khaki slacks, and a pair of brown oxfords that were a step up from his usual sneakers. Julie also noticed the familiar scent of Michael Jordan cologne.

"Are you wearing Dad's cologne?" She asked.

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Um...ok. I know our family's crazy, but dating your sister seems like a bit much."

Junior chuckled.

"It's not like that," he began, ushering Julie out onto the front porch. "You know, for an innocent little 14-year old, you kinda got a dirty mind."

"First of all, I'm going to be 15 in two months – not even. And second, I think it's time you told me where we are going."

"Two places," Junior nodded, approaching his Explorer in the driveway. "The music store, and the Hive."

"Ok..." Julie stepped up into the front passenger seat. "Why did I need to dress up for either of those places?"

Junior started up the engine and began to back out.

"Well, a buddy of mine is the assistant manager of the music store," he explained. "His dad owns the place. I was thinking that he might give you a summer job if you dressed for success."

"I see."

"I know, I know," Junior acknowledged. "You didn't ask for my help in the job hunt. But I didn't know how serious you were about painting lessons with Mark; and just in case..."

"Heh, I kinda made up that up on the fly."

"I figured as much."

"But really, it's not such a bad idea," Julie countered. "I'll get to keep Mom off my back _and_ annoy Mark at the same time. That's a pretty good day's work, if you ask me."

_Not to mention, a chance to learn something Adam might get a kick out of._

Junior laughed.

"That's pretty good thinking, actually. But just in case…check that… _when_ Mark starts making you feel homicidal, it'll be good for you to have a job to go to. Besides, it'll be good for you to earn some spending money before you return to school. It beats asking Mom and Dad for money."

Julie had to agree with her brother there. Whenever she had called home for money during freshman year, Steven had always responded with a lecture on understanding the value of a dollar and the importance of thrift. Karen simply insisted that Julie already had everything she needed.

"Ok. Thanks, Junior. The music store job is a good idea. But why are _you_ so dolled-up for _my_ job interview? The Hive's not that fancy."

"We're gonna meet Meg there. Most non-hockey players appreciate it when you don't go out to meet them in gym clothes."

Julie cocked an eyebrow.

"Not that I know anything about dating, but I kinda doubt that bringing your little sister along will impress your date. Especially if your little sister was babysat by said date."

Junior shrugged as he parked his SUV into a space behind the row of small buildings that made up Bangor's bohemian district. Among other cultural businesses, it housed a music store and the Hive coffee house – a favorite hangout for teenagers and college students home for the summer.

"She'll be cool with it," Junior assured his sister. "Don't worry."

"Whatever. Just let me check out the district on my own. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

"Or, I could take you back home after your interview…to all of those lovely guttural noises."

Julie flashed a pair of horrified eyes at her brother.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. Julie, you're a very smart and mature almost-15-year old. But I'm not gonna let you wander around in public at night on your own."

Julie sighed. She didn't want to be the third wheel on her brother's date, but having finally escaped from the house, she wanted to be trapped back home even less.

"I guess it'll be nice to see Meg again," she shrugged.

"Good girl. Let's go."

The brother/sister tandem stepped out into the warm June evening and walked through a short alleyway to access the front of the buildings that they had parked behind. Junior led his sister into the small, but well-stocked music store that boasted an impressive vinyl selection. There were only about half a dozen patrons browsing through the stacks when a wiry 19-year old with shaggy brown hair and a goatee approached the Gaffneys.

"Hey, Junior. What's up, man?"

The teenager greeted Junior with a high-five/handshake hybrid.

"Not much, Derek," he replied. "This is Julie, my sister that I've been telling you about," he nodded in Julie's direction.

"Nice to meet you, Julie," Derek offered.

"Likewise."

"Is your dad in the back for the interview?" Junior asked.

Derek nodded.

"Yeah, right this way."

The assistant manager beckoned Julie to follow, which she did with a feeling of considerable self-consciousness. She felt embarrassingly overdressed next to Derek, who wore a black Nirvana T-shirt, a beat up pair of blue jeans, and some mangy old sandals.

After a short walk, the pair arrived at the back door, and Derek knocked.

"Come in!" Came a voice from the other side.

Derek ushered Julie in.

"Hey, Dad. This is Julie Gaffney, Junior's sister."

A bald, heavyset man with brown eyes looked up from his desk. Upon seeing the comely, well-dressed teen, he smiled. He had been having a lot of staffing problems, as none of the people that his son brought in proved reliable; but this clean-looking girl had a responsible and drug-free look, so he decided to take a chance.

"You're hired."

Julie looked startled.

"The pay is six-fifty an hour, and you can work up to the twenty hour max for a person your age, which leaves you about 100 bucks a week – after Uncle Sam's taken his slice. Not bad for a minor." He reached into a filing cabinet and pulled out a few documents. "I just need you to fill these out for me. The sooner you bring 'em back, the sooner you can start. And being a minor, you're gonna need to get your working papers; the high school guidance office has those. They just need a parent's signature."

"Um…cool. Thank you," Julie smiled.

Her new boss nodded.

"You're welcome. Derek will show you the ropes once you're ready to go. Any questions?"

"Uh, yeah – I don't go to high school here in Bangor. Will getting those forms be a problem?

The proprietor shook his head in the negative.

"Those are state forms that are required for minors to work in the State of Maine," he explained. "It doesn't matter where you go to school. I'm just telling you where you can find them."

"Oh, cool," Julie nodded. "Thanks again," she added with a smile before regrouping with Junior at the front of the store.

"Back already?"

"Yep!" Julie beamed. "He took one look at me and gave me the job! Good call on the fancy clothes."

"Have I ever steered you wrong before?"

Julie gave her brother a sideways glance.

"Do you want me to be honest...or tactful?"

"Heh, you're a pistol," Junior chortled. "Lemme just grab the new Marilyn Manson album, then we'll head out."

Julie winced at her brother's selection.

"Remember, Julie – you're in sales now. The best product is the one that your customer is willing to buy."

"I'll try to remember that," she nodded. "And study my butt off so I can be a doctor instead of a saleswoman."

"Good call."

After buying his new Marilyn Manson, along with a Bon Jovi for Julie to celebrate her new job, Junior walked his sister over to the Hive. With its downtown location and river-side deck, the coffee house usually teemed high school and college students; and this mild June evening was no exception. The place usually had some form of live entertainment on offer from Bangor's young musicians, comedians, and poets. This evening, a jazz ensemble from the high school played over the din of the patrons.

"Hey, Junior!" A female voice called out.

The BU forward followed the sound of the voice to discover Meg Jenkins.

With her medium height, nice proportions, blonde hair, and warm, brown eyes, Meg was on the pretty side – but not too far out of Junior's league. He had had a thing for her all throughout their time at Bangor High, but the timing was never right. One or both of them had always been in a relationship with someone else. But that summer back from college had created a dating opportunity where none had existed before.

After allowing Junior to give her an affectionate squeeze, Meg noticed Julie.

"Julie? Is that you?"

"Yep, it's me," the goalie nodded. "It's nice to see you again, Meg."

"Wow, you've _really_ grown up!"

Julie was about to say something snarky to her old babysitter, but decided to bite her tongue for Junior's sake.

"I'll just get the drinks," Junior offered. "You guys still like chai?"

The two girls nodded.

"Right, go and find a table, then."

Julie and Meg made their way out to the deck, and against all expectations, found an open table by the railing. Given the nice weather, space on the deck was at a premium. All around them, young couples took in the early summer breeze, along with the soft rustle of the river's current. Julie thought she recognized most of these other teenagers. It was obvious that much of Bangor's youth had changed during her year at Eden Hall.

"Ah, the perfect spot," Meg declared, taking a seat. "God, I can't believe how much you've grown up – you're so beautiful!"

"Thanks," Julie blushed. "So uh...you're going to UMaine, right?"

"Ayuh."

Julie giggled upon hearing the Mainer equivalent of 'yeah.' The Gaffneys seldom used the word, but Meg was very much a local girl.

"What? Do I have to put on airs for Miss Minnesota?"

"Sorry."

"I'm just messin' with ya," Meg chortled. "I think it's awesome that you're getting out and seeing the world. So how are things in the hockey world?"

"It depends on what part of the hockey world," Julie answered. "For the Bruins, it's all about finding a way out of the basement – with or without Cam Neely's help; for BU, it's about getting back to the Frozen Four; and for me, it's about getting ready for sophomore year."

"Oh, I know all about BU," Meg nodded. "Junior can't stop talking about it. What about Minnesota? It's Eden Hall you go to, right?"

Julie nodded. For the next few minutes, she talked about her freshman exploits, and was delighted to chat with a girl who wouldn't constantly question her about boys. Eventually, Junior arrived with a cardboard tray carrying three teas and a cup of milk. Meg had been plenty nice to Julie, but once her boyfriend returned, Meg's attention was focused entirely on Junior.

Bored, Julie lazily stirred her tea and looked around aimlessly when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey, Cat!"

She looked up to see two of her old Bangor teammates, Chris 'Pee Pants' Powell and Matt Stark, standing next to her. Julie noticed at once that her friends had been right about 'Pee Pants.' The shy, clumsy boy on her Pee Wee team had developed into a handsome young man during Julie's absence. With his tall, lean-but-strong build, dark blue eyes, and light brown hair, Julie found herself looking at Chris in a way she had never imagined possible before. Matt had also grown up over the past year – the blond-haired boy's stocky build looked more muscular than fat, but he seemed just as quiet as Julie had remembered him.

Changes or no changes, Julie was delighted to see her old friends.

"Hey, guys, " she beamed. "What are you doing here?"

"I just figured it wouldn't kill Matt to get out a little," Chris explained. "Why don't you join us?"

Julie looked back to her brother for permission.

He gave a worried sigh. Junior did not want to send his little sister out into the world with a pair of hormone-driven teenage boys, even if they were her friends. His sister seemed to combine good looks with a genuine obliviousness to her own appeal – a combination that the wrong type of guy would never hesitate to exploit.

"Come on, Junior," Meg pleaded on Julie's behalf. "They're old teammates, and Chris can drive. He can drop Julie off at the house."

Chris nodded in agreement.

Junior sighed again, this time in resignation.

"Alright, you can go."

Julie grabbed her tea as she got to her feet, and showed off her catlike reflexes by catching the quarter that her brother had tossed at her.

"Call me on my cellphone if you want me to pick you up," Junior offered, though his tone made it sound more like a command.

He then trained his hard sapphire eyes onto the boys in warning.

 


	6. One Night in Bangor

Julie followed Chris and Matt back into the coffeehouse, leaving Junior and Megan behind on the deck. The sounds of jazz were louder indoors, as the trio was closer to the performing ensemble, but it wasn't enough to make conversation difficult. Julie managed to recognize each of the jazz players, but with some difficulty. Just like the patrons, the band had grown up quite a bit during the past year. As she took a seat at a bistro table, she was unable to shake the feeling that her hometown had moved on without her, and this prompted a tinge of sadness.

Matt went ahead and took a seat opposite Julie, while Chris remained standing.

"Hey now," Chris said to Julie, "No need for the long face! I'll get you a refill, don't worry!"

Before Julie could tell him that she was fine, Chris had disappeared through the throng of patrons and made his way to the counter. She reached into her handbag and pulled a 5-dollar bill out of her wallet, setting the money on the table to remind herself to pay her friend.

"Chris doesn't mind paying," Matt assured her.

With his flaxen-colored hair, soft brown eyes, and cherub cheeks, Julie supposed that the Bangor forward was cute in a boy-next-door kinda way, but he was not the head-turner that Chris had become.

_Gross. Dont think about your old teammate that way._

"If the guy pays, then it's a date," Julie declared. "I wanna keep things simple."

"Heh, in that case, I hope you didn't let your brother pay for your tea."

"Ha-ha. Family doesn't count."

"I'll never understand these weird dating rules," Matt shrugged. "Why can't two people who like each other just be open…and not follow all these weird rules?"

"I don't know," Julie shrugged back. "That's why I steer clear of that whole fire hazard."

_That and every guy at school thinks I'm 'butch.'_

"I hope you're not talking about me," Chris grinned, carrying a fresh cup of chai along with two decaf coffees in a cardboard tray.

"Nah, just how stupid dating is," Julie replied.

"Oh," Chris frowned, but soon recovered his apparent cheer.

It was impossible for him not to notice how well his old goalie pal had developed during her year away from home. In his eyes, Julie had always been a pretty girl, but the tanned, well-dressed young woman seated next to him was something else. Given his new-found success with girls, Chris was tempted to tell Julie that dating would be considerably less 'stupid' if she went out with him. His clumsy flirting worked wonders on the girls of Bangor, but Chris Powell had the looks to make his terrible one-liners seem charming.

"But enough about all of that," Julie declared. "Tell me about your season. How did Jensen do?"

"He's no Cat, that's for sure," Matt answered.

"You've got that right," Chris agreed. "I mean he's not bad…not by a long shot. But we didn't know how much you had spoiled us until you left."

"Aww."

"Heh, I'm not trying to butter you up or anything," Chris insisted. "But would you consider staying in Bangor come school time?"

"Not a snowball's chance in hell."

The boys laughed.

"So what's Eden Hall like?" Matt asked.

Julie shrugged.

"The school's ok, I guess. I mean, the education is great – almost all the teachers have PhDs, and the all the alumni seem to be insanely rich; but there's a lot of snobbery there. Hoity-toity blue-bloods who were born in the net and thought they had scored a goal...you know, those types. But my team is amazing, and nothing will keep me from going back to them."

"So…deets!" Chris pressed Julie.

"Well, there's our captain, Charlie Conway," Julie began. "I guess he's sorta cute, in an overanxious puppy kinda way…he definitely has nice eyes, but he's taken. Going out with a girl named 'Linda' at the moment. I actually think those two are good together. He's goofy, she's serious; he's got a temper, she's calm; he's kind of a slacker when it comes to schoolwork, she's bright and hard working. Heh, they both like Pantera though – try and figure that one out."

The two boys responded with looks that mixed confusion with slight horror.

"I guess _someone_ has been spending too much time with Claire and ELK," Chris speculated. "I'm more interested in how those guys play."

Julie laughed out loud at her faux pas.

"Sorry, guys."

She was beginning to realize just how much of a double life she was living as a hockey player and as a teenage girl. When she was younger, the hockey and girl worlds didn't clash nearly as much as they now did. Friends from one world wanted to know what her Minnesota teammates were like physically. Friends from the other world wanted to know what her Minnesota teammates were like as players. Julie knew that she found the hockey world more interesting, but was unable to resist the pull of the girl world, even as she rejected its shallowness and sillyness.

"Well," she began. "There's Charlie, again. He's got a really sick triple deke scoring move."

"Whoa," Matt was clearly impressed. "How is that even possible? I mean he's gotta be like _insanely_ fast. If I tried that move on a shot attempt, I'd end up banging into the goalie before I completed the move."

"Sounds like your captain's a fine stick handler," Chris agreed.

"And we've got a defenseman, Fulton," Julie continued. "One time he fired one of his slapshots and it went wild, but he hit the puck so hard that the ricochet was enough to knock some poor guy out cold."

"Awesome!" Chris enthused.

"Ayuh," Matt nodded.

"Then there's a newer defenseman, Russ, who's got this shot he calls a 'knucklepuck'…it's kinda like the pitch in baseball, with its weird speed and changing directions. Confusing as hell to block."

The two Maine boys each had wondrous looks in their eyes, as though they were listening to a majestic old storyteller recount a favorite adventure. Julie realized that she could probably describe each one of her Duck teammates and draw impressed looks from her old friends. The new group at Eden Hall had a collection of unique talents that any hockey lover would appreciate, so she didn't hesitate to mention Dwayne's trick stick handling, or the unreal speed of Luis, or Portman's almost-frightening strength, or Kenny's elusive skating, or Connie and Guy's deadly trickery around the net, or the fact that Coach Orion was a retired pro.

Then she came to the most impressive Duck of them all, the enigmatic Adam Banks.

How to describe Number 99? She knew that Matt and Chris would be uninterested in Adam's looks, or in his quiet demeanor that she found so mysterious and intriguing. Unlike the other Ducks, Adam did not have one unique, eye-grabbing talent. He was simply amazing all around. A prolific scorer, and a selfless passer. A supreme athlete with a hockey IQ that bordered on genius. A flashy and breathtaking performer on offense, he was also remarkably gritty and brave in defending the net on power plays.

Julie still remembered that diving block that he had made against Varsity when they were in a five-on-three in the final minute, and Julie had found herself outside her net. Varsity fired a shot that would have gone in easily, but Adam threw himself into the path of the blazing puck and kept the Ducks in a position to secure their toughest win to date.

_That must've hurt real bad._

But Adam went about changing and participating in the postgame celebration as though nothing had happened – neither complaining about the pain nor bragging about his heroics. Charlie had stubbornly resisted learning defense, even walking out on the team as result. But Adam, a far more impressive scorer, never needed to be told to play two-way hockey. The more that she thought about her team's quiet center, the more that Julie realized just how special he was.

The fact that he never advertised his own specialness was also striking – was he even aware of it?

"And there's Adam," Julie began softly. "He's just…awesome. I don't know how else to describe him."

Chris raised an intrigued pair of eyebrows, inviting Julie to elaborate.

"I mean, he wears Gretzky's number, but somehow that doesn't feel presumptuous with him. He's like...the most humble guy around. There's nothing about his game that is deficient, but he never stops improving. I've never seen such a combination of work ethic and talent."

Her description of the Duck center seemed unremarkable to the boys. After all, there were plenty of talented players in the world of hockey who worked their butts off; and despite Julie's insistence that Adam's number 99 was not presumptuous, it sure seemed that way to the boys who had never met him. Did Julie have other kinds of feelings that she found difficult to express in non-hockey terms?

"Sounds like you've got a bit of a thing for this Adam guy," Chris ventured.

Julie scoffed.

"It's always gotta come back to _liking_ a guy, doesn't it? Why can't you just accept that he's an amazing player?"

"I'm sure he is," Chris agreed. "But your description of Adam just felt a little... _different_...from all the other ones – even your cute, overanxious puppy Charlie."

Julie gifted Chris with one of her finest 'Death-to-You' looks, a look she had perfected through nearly a decade-and-a-half of living with two older brothers.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with noticing the guy underneath the pads, Julie," Matt offered.

Chris gave his friend a weird look.

"I meant for _girls_ to look at the guy underneath the pads…you're a girl, Julie. I'm sure Adam and the other guys notice the girl underneath the goalie pads."

Julie blushed. She liked Matt and appreciated his kind words, but she felt that he had no idea what he was talking about. If any guy had noticed the girl beneath the goalie pads, they certainly weren't impressed enough to bother asking her out. She thought that she had detected some light flirting from Scooter Vanderbilt, the Varsity goalie, and had even earned a kiss on the cheek from the handsome senior. But it never went any further than that, and Julie figured that Scooter had simply been nice-but-not-into her, or that he was too scared of his Varsity teammates to ask out a hated Little Ducky.

Either way, he wasn't boyfriend material for Julie. And none of the other guys at Eden Hall ever seemed to notice her as anything other than a goalie.

Chris, having grown uncomfortable with the silence, moved to break it.

"Whether you like Adam or not, he's either gotta be blind or an idiot if he doesn't like you."

Julie smiled. Why couldn't she bring these guys with her back to Minnesota? As far as she was concerned, Maine could keep her girlfriends, but she couln't imagine a more perfect scenario than Chris, Matt, and Shawn, her old defenseman, as Ducks. Not only would she have a trio of good friends around, but the three Bangor boys could add some serious depth to the JV squad. It was a wonderful dream.

 _And too good to ever come true,_ Julie sighed.

"Ayuh," Matt agreed. "Any guy would be lucky to go out with Cat. But that's something for her to worry about when school starts back up. Right now, I think she needs an Eagle."

An excited smile lit up Julie's face. The Eagle's Nest was a Bangor institution, and boasted the tastiest seafood in a town that was teeming with it. Served on freshly-baked buns, their lobster rolls offered more lobster than the average five-star restaurant, and at McDonald's-level prices. But plain old fish and chips sounded more appealing to her at that moment.

"Well, even if she doesn't need one, I do," Chris nodded, getting up from the table. "We better hurry, though. They close soon."

The teenage trio stepped into the warm June evening, and Chris proudly led his friends to his meticulously-waxed Chevy Corsica. The sky blue sedan – aptly named 'Sky' – was its doting owner's portal into manhood. With Sky, Chris had the ability to take friends and dates all over the place, and in so doing, cement his reputation as one of Bangor High's cooler guys.

"Mind if I sit up front?" Julie asked. "The backseat looks kinda cramped."

Chris deflated somewhat at Julie's reaction to his pride-and-joy, but was cheered by the fact that she wanted to ride shotgun with him.

"Sorry, Julie – I called shotgun earlier," Matt protested.

"I have no memory of that," Chris falsely declared. "Sure thing, Julie. You can sit up front."

Matt sighed, annoyed by the ease with which pretty girls always got whatever they wanted. But Chris ignored him, opening the front passenger-side door and ushering Julie into the seat before closing her door. With Matt splayed across the backseat, Chris sunk into the driver's seat and fired-up the engine, but not before noticing how agreeably Julie's skirt had ridden up. The increasingly suave young man, however, knew his old friend too well to place his hand over those smooth, shapely bronze legs. Julie had, as their team's only girl, shown plenty of willingness and ability to fight any boy who was dumb enough to mess with her, and Chris knew better than to tempt fate.

"And away we go," he announced, easing his car out of its space behind the Hive.

"This car still smells new," Julie observed.

"Thank you," Chris smiled. "That'll be the Armor All. I wipe down the console every day."

"That seems a bit excessive."

Chris deflated again.

_She's not gonna make this flirting thing easy, is she?_

"Maybe it is," he shrugged. "But I like to take care of my b...car."

He had been about to say 'baby,' but corrected himself in the nick of time.

"Tell Julie what you named it!" Matt chirped.

_Worst. Wingman. Ever._

"You actually _named_ your car?" Julie giggled.

"Uh, yes...yes, I did."

"Well?"

"Sky."

"That's not bad," Julie nodded. "I thought you were gonna go with something weird like 'Christine'."

"Heh, want me to drive by Stephen King's house on the way back?"

"Nah, I'm not a tourist, Chris."

 _Or maybe I am,_ Julie thought, reflecting on how much her friends had grown up during her time away from home. It definitely had the effect of making Bangor feel rather like a tourist destination to her.

"There's gonna be a fireworks show at Cascade Park," Matt pointed out. "Why don't we get our food to-go and head there?"

"Sounds cool," Chris nodded. "Julie?"

"I'm in," she agreed, crossing her legs.

 _Lucky glove compartment,_ Chris thought, envying the view.

The trio made small talk as Chris navigated Sky out of Washington Street and onto the State Street Bridge, crossing the river before intersecting with North Maine Street. They eventually arrived at the Eagle's Nest, and Julie was struck by the fact that the nest of any bird that wasn't a duck sounded wrong to her.

"You guys ever think about renaming this place 'the Duck's Nest'?" She asked casually.

The employee on the other side of the counter gave her a bemused look.

"Uh...no."

"You should," Chris chimed-in. "There aren't any eagles on this river. Plenty of ducks though. I know a great hunting spot, actually."

"That's horrible!" Julie protested, causing Chris to blush.

"Sorry."

"Ah, yeah," Matt began. "You bagged a whole flock of them back in November, didn't you?"

 _"Shut. Up."_ Chris silently mouthed to his tin-eared wingman.

 _"Oh. Sorry,"_ Matt mouthed back.

With their food bagged-up to go, the trio rode over to Cascade Park and found an empty bench as the sun began to set. Seated between two teenage guys who played hockey, Julie was forced to realize yet again just how much her friends had grown up. She hardly had any room to work on her fish and chips without elbowing one or both of them.

"Some cuddler, you are," Chris teased.

"Sorry."

Chris just managed to suppress a sigh. He had thought that _his_ flirting skills were in need of improvement, but Julie's were truly abysmal.

Before he could respond, Julie's friend Emily – of ELK fame – approached.

"Hey, guys!" The comely blonde sophomore beamed.

In addition to her long, blonde locks, Emily possessed a magnetic pair of blue eyes and a winning smile. She looked every bit like the perfect high school cheerleader that she was. _And the sun's been mighty good to her,_ Chris realized.

"What's up, Emily?" He asked.

They were then joined by Lauren, Julie's red-haired friend. But unlike Emily and Julie, the sun had obviously been cruel to Lauren – her crimson skin not unlike the lobsters that populated Maine's rocky shoreline.

"Where's Katie?" Julie asked, noticing that ELK was one short.

Emily nodded in the direction of the missing blonde girl, who was laying on a blanket next to a Bangor football player in anticipation of the fireworks. Julie noticed that there were a few blankets around the pair, and realized what her girlfriends had in mind.

"The show will be starting soon," Emily declared. "You guys should like _totally_ watch it with us."

Chris felt the corners of his mouth creep up into a smile. Emily's bubbly personality was infectious, and she was far more congenial to the dating ritual than Julie was.

"Sure, let's go," he agreed, rising to his feet.

Given that Chris was their ride home, Julie and Matt had no choice but to follow him, and took seats on the blankets that Emily and Lauren had led them to.

Despite being surrounded by friends, Julie became miserable as she realized that she had become the odd woman out. Emily and Chris flirted and cuddled; and even Matt was getting some romantic attention in the form of Lauren. And of course, Katie already had her football player – a hulking, Portmanesque giant whose baby face didn't match his body, but a guy, no less. A guy who knew how to treat a girl like a girl.

Julie sighed unhappily.

_I just need Mark to show up with Claire, and then the night will be complete._

Right on cue, Mark appeared, hand-in-hand with Claire.

_Of course, how could it possibly be any different?_

At that, a loud explosion shook the night sky.

 _"Ooooh,"_ the crowd murmured as the fireworks began.

Julie wondered if there was an exploding rocket big enough for her to go up on.


	7. Insights and Muses

 Adam awoke, then went about his morning routine of making his bed, showering, and getting dressed. High-performing athletes are creatures of habit, and Adam Banks was no exception. The Duck center took care to leave the sheets and comforter on his bed in tight hospital corners before moving on to the shower. His father had always told him that as long as he went to the trouble of making his bed in the morning, then no matter how rough the day, he would always have something perfect waiting for him at the end of it.

 But Adam had made at least one notable change to his daily routine: checking for, and responding to emails from Julie.

He had his own desktop computer, as well as a phone line of his own, leaving him free to obsessively check his email without drawing the ire of parents or siblings for hogging the phone line.

Between having a flawless athlete of a big brother, and a precocious genius of a baby brother, Adam had grown used to being overshadowed. The dynamics on his hockey teams were seldom any different. Despite his overwhelming talent, his natural reticence made him take a backseat to his more vocal and colorful teammates.

Julie Gaffney's apparent interest in him, however, was something new and completely different.

Someone was noticing Adam Banks – _all_ of Adam Banks – for the first time, and he found the experience intoxicating.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried off and draped a towel around his waist before returning to his bedroom. Despite the sheer force of his considerable will power, he was unable to resist looking over at his computer and thinking about his next email from Julie.

_Snap out of it, you dork._

Having sent Julie two emails in one day, he figured he was already pathetic enough, and now he fretted over Julie's reaction to his earnest correspondence.

"Don't even _think_ about checking your email," he warned himself out loud.

_Probably nothing to check anyway. Julie's gorgeous and she's got a life back in Maine. She's not clinging to her PC like some loser...unlike_ some _people._

Vowing not to send Julie a third email in twenty-four hours, Adam went about getting dressed. He planned on working out later in the day, as always, but given that he had to eat breakfast with his family, he knew that gym clothes simply wouldn't do. So he threw on a pair of khaki slacks, and a crisp white polo, taking care to put on a decent pair of socks and oxfords before heading downstairs. Though the Banks Family wasn't folksy enough to embrace the slogan "no shirt, no shoes, no service," it went without saying that such articles of clothing were _not_ optional at the table.

Downstairs, Penny, the family's live-in maid, was cooking up a storm.

"It'll be ready in a minute, luv," the sprightly Yorkshire native declared.

"No need to rush," Adam nodded.

As he made his way toward the dining alcove of the kitchen, he noticed that his father was alone at the table. Given that it was a weekday, Philip Banks was dressed to the nines in a slate gray suit and steel blue tie, with his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he glowered over his copy of the _Wall Street Journal._

"Good morning, Dad."

Philip looked up for a split second and grunted.

Though the gesture was hardly a warm one, Adam knew his father well enough to appreciate that this was Philip's version of "good morning."

Adam took his seat across from his father, and cursed his timing. Breakfast would be ready soon enough, but now he had to endure several minutes of awkward silence with his dad as they waited. His brothers Michael and Eric had had the good sense to wait longer before coming down, and his mother, Charlotte had an unspoken policy of non-interaction with her husband unless it was absolutely necessary. Mercifully, Philip broke the silence.

"You're a bit early," he stated, eyes glued to his paper. "Something the matter?"

_Heh, I guess I really_ did _save time by not checking my emails._

But the 15-year old was not about to talk about his crush.

"No, Dad. Everything's fine."

"Fair enough."

And with that, Philip had exhausted his repertoire of conversation.

For a brief moment, Adam actually considered spilling the beans and letting his dad know all about Julie – if only to see how his dour old man would react. As he pictured this extraordinary conversation in his head, Adam laughed out loud, prompting Philip to look up from his paper.

"Sorry," Adam blushed. 'I uh...just remembered something funny from Beavis and Butthead."

"You know, Adam – you could be doing something more productive with your time," Philip admonished. "You could be studying game tape, you could be reading a book, you could be writing to your grandparents...any number of things. You're wasting time just sitting there and laughing at the Buttman."

Adam _just_ managed to suppress a laugh by biting his lower lip.

_Heheh, Buttman._

"Yes, Dad – of course," Adam nodded. "Please excuse me."

Just as he got up from the table, Penny marched into the alcove and began serving the dishes. And like clockwork, they were instantly joined by Michael, Eric, and Charlotte.

"Heh, I guess I'll just sit back down," Adam said sheepishly.

The entire family now seated, they waited in silence as Philip continued reading his paper – transfixed by Mexico's apparent democratization.

Finally, he set his paper down and tucked his glasses into his breast pocket.

"You may begin."

The family ate in silence, and Philip, having the smallest meal, finished first. After excusing himself, he brushed his teeth and went off to work. In his absence, the family relaxed somewhat, even though Eric earned himself an appalled pair of queenly eyebrows from Charlotte as he rested his elbows on the table. Eventually, the four of them finished their meals and went their separate ways, leaving Penny to clear the table.

Now alone in his room, Adam's desktop seemed to be calling to him. Despite his promises not to check his email, the temptation was too strong this time, so he went ahead and fired up his PC, even as he cursed himself. Thoughts of Julie's radiant smile ran through his head as the dial tone twanged and screeched. In his eyes, she was _by far_ the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, but she never carried herself that way. Despite her beauty, there was something down-to-earth and disarming about Julie Gaffney.

_And you like her the way stink likes a horse turd, as Dwayne might say._

Adam chortled at that – and imagined inviting Dwayne over to the house for dinner.

_Heh, I should invite Portman too. That oughtta horrify the folks._

As he imagined the family dinner with Dwayne and Portman, and its seemingly limitless potential for comedy, Adam heard the AOL Man speak.

"Welcome! You've got mail!”

Without missing a beat, Adam ran his mouse pointer over the mail icon and eagerly clicked.

"Oh, thank God," he sighed in relief upon seeing Julie's name.

He had begun to seriously worry that he had appeared overanxious and had spooked her. He double clicked her message.

_Dear Adam,_

_I think I know why you like the Stars so much, and loyalty is only part of it. I think you're a real Mike Modano fanatic…at least you play like one. I've noticed the similarities in your game. Just a guess, though._

Adam's jaw dropped as he read Julie's comparison. As it happened, his devotion to Mike Modano was a very big reason for his continued devotion to the Stars. And she had even seen a resemblance in Adam's game to that of his hero's.

Adam laughed slightly as he shook his head. Even if Julie had intended only an honest statement of fact, it was still an incredibly nice thing to say. He continued to read the email.

_I don't mean to be a drag, but things could be better over here. A lot better. I miss the Ducks terribly. All my old girl friends are hooking up with all of my old teammates – except for my old best friend, Claire, who is hooking up with my obnoxious brother Mark. I hope things are going better for you. How are things, anyway?_

_You're probably training like crazy. No one gets that good by sitting around. I've still got an old teammate named Shawn, he hasn't been corrupted...yet. I probably should train with him – that could help me keep sharp, and get my mind off things._

_Sorry for being such a downer. You don't have to respond. It just feels good to vent._

_Sincerely,_

_Julie_

Adam's eyes widened as he got to the end of Julie's email. He was relieved that she had not appeared bothered by his frequent writing, and was pleasantly surprised by the connection that she had made between Mike Modano and himself… _even comparing our games!_ Adam had worn Modano's number 9 as a Hawk, but was forced to give up the number when he became a Duck; but he remained devoted to his childhood hero.

Adam felt a pang of sadness, however, when he realized just how down in the dumps Julie was. He hit the 'reply' button and got to work on his response.

_Dear Julie,_

_No one who compares me to Mike Modano can possibly be 'a drag.'_ _I actually met him a while back with the other Ducks. This was before you, Dwayne, Portman, Russ, Kenny, and Luis joined the team. Bombay actually played in Pee Wee's with him. Small world, eh?_

_Things are alright, here, I guess. I don't know if I told you, but I have an older brother, Michael, who's a center for Michigan. He's home for now, but college hockey is really intense, and they train almost year-round, so he'll be going back to Ann Arbor soon. The nice thing about having him around is that he's a great for analyzing game tape. I always learn a ton from him.  
_

_My younger brother, Eric, is doing ok. I'm definitely trying to be nicer to him after those emails you and I sent each other. The other day I asked him about some book he was reading, then he went off on this insane tangent about the aurora borealis. I thought my head was gonna explode. But at least we're talking, and he seemed happy to explain his interests to me._

_Because of my workouts, and my film sessions with Michael, I actually don't get to see the Ducks as often as I would like, but Charlie –and occasionally Guy – drops by from time to time. From what they tell me, everyone really misses you. Hopefully you're keeping in touch with everyone else. I'm sorry to hear that your friends back home are a drag. When you get back to Minnesota, I'll take you out some place fun to make up for it!_

_Sincerely,_

_Adam._

He hit the send button, and immediately regretted it.

_I_ _actually offered to take Julie out...like on a date._

Instead of looking forward to hearing her response, he began to dread the seemingly inevitable rejection. Of course, Julie being Julie, she would phrase it in the gentlest way possible, Adam reasoned, _but still._

He clicked back to his inbox to find only one unread email: from Paul Larson, his former Hawk teammate. After the bitter Hawk/Duck showdown years ago when Jake McGill sent Adam headfirst into the goal post, Adam wanted nothing to do with his early childhood friends. But that never stopped Larson from reaching out from time to time. The quiet Hawk never failed to send Adam a birthday greeting every December, and he would occasionally send more substantive notes, inviting Adam to hang out.

During his freshman exile on Varsity, Adam had been sorely tempted to take Larson up on his offer to rekindle their friendship. It was a desperately lonely year for Number 99, and although Larson was not on either hockey team that year, he had been a student at Eden Hall, and knew all about Adam's onerous predicament. Larson had in fact been one of the original JV players, who, along with Rick Riley's younger brother, had gotten booted off the team when the Ducks showed up; but he had been allowed to retain his scholarship for his freshman year before trying out for the hockey program as a sophomore.

McGill, the more temperamental of the ex-Hawks, had a more emotional and bitter reaction than Larson did to Adam's transformation to Duck. McGill had never bothered to even contact Adam in the years since The Incident, let alone apologize for it. But Larson was more cerebral and patient, and Adam figured that Larson could easily bring McGill to heel if Adam wanted back in the fold.

Larson had always been very...persuasive; and the fact that nearly everyone underestimated him only made him even more powerful.

Adam's cursor hovered over Larson's unread message.

He briefly thought back to their times together. Adam Banks, Paul Larson, and Jake McGill: the fearsome Golden Trio of Jack Reilly's Hawks. The best of the best, and the baddest of the bad. Between the black uniforms and training jackets, the sinister logo, and the sheer terror that they aroused both on and off the ice, the Golden Trio had given Adam an unbelievable feeling of power and worth – a feeling he had never known as a Duck.

A feeling that he realized in lonely, unpleasant moments.

It had always been the Golden Trio against the world, and the world seemed to fear them. No one feared the Ducks, in spite of their achievements, and given the way that the Ducks had treated Adam during freshman year, he realized that their loyalty was fickle.

_Hawks are fickle, Ducks are fickle. If everybody's fickle anyway, why not at least have some fun?_

He grinned malevolently at the prospect of pounding twerps into submission and lording over them.

_Let's just see what Paul has to say..._

He was about to click on the message from his old Hawk buddy, when Julie's smiling visage returned to him.

He paused, frozen for nearly a full minute.

Then, letting out a deep breath, Adam deleted Larson's message without reading it.

* * *

"Right," Mark Gaffney spoke up as he began pacing around Julie in his bedroom. "You don't wanna be here, and _I_ don't wanna be here. So the sooner that we get this over with, the happier we both will be."

Julie, seated on a stool in front of an easel, had surprised herself by insisting on painting lessons with Mark, despite the fact that she now had a job and didn't need the extra brownie points from her mother. Nevertheless, she had taken seriously Adam's advice about trying to get along with her brother. Plus, Julie figured that she could learn something that would impress Adam, having been told in a previous email that he found artistic interpretations intriguing.

"You're the boss," Julie offered.

Mark's eyebrows flew up in surprise, but he nodded in satisfaction.

_This ordeal may turn out easier than I thought._

"All great art comes from within," he declared. "It's more than just pretty pictures and academic criticism; it's about taking the feelings, hopes, and dreams that make up your imagination and turning it into something that the world can see. What moves you more than anything else?"

Julie shrugged. She hadn't expected this to turn into a psychological Q-and-A session.

"Hockey, I guess."

Mark chuckled.

"Well there's a shocker. Ok, paint something that's hockey-related."

Julie nodded, then got to work as Mark killed time by doing a few yoga stretches.

"Finished!" She declared a few minutes later.

Mark got out of his cobra pose and went over to study the canvas. His curious expression soon gave way to an annoyed scowl.

"You mock me."

"What? I mean, I know it's not the _Mona Lisa_ , but I'm just starting out!"

Mark glared at the simple black disc on the canvas that he knew to be a hockey puck.

"Julie, if I wanted a realistic depiction of a hockey puck, I could save a lot of time and effort by just taking a picture. Your painting has no _soul._ No _feeling._ Is the puck coming at me in a menacing way? Is it sliding around in a harmless way? I have no idea."

"What if I just wanted to paint a regular puck?"

Mark scoffed.

"Then I'd say that you need to find a better muse."

"Muse?"

The suffering teenage artist palmed his forehead in exasperation.

"You know, your _muse!_ Your inspiration, basically. Something that grabs you by the throat and demands that you bring it to life on the canvas!"

Now it was Julie's turn to do a facepalm. Any doubts that she had about Mark's qualities as an artist were extinguished as she realized just how crazy her brother was.

"You've got a whole palette right there," Mark continued, indicating Julie's palette with his hand. "Use the vibrancy of the different colors to bring out the intensity…the _feeling_ of your muse. If it's painful, think fiery colors. If it's cold and distant, think blue and gray. If it's soothing, think light colors, gentle strokes."

"And how am I supposed to come up with that?"

"Use your imagination, you dumb boob!"

Julie's eyes narrowed. She was going to this trouble in part to get along better with Mark, but he couldn't resist the urge to insult her.

Suddenly, she felt a flash of inspiration.

"Mark, come closer, please," she beckoned with a sweet smile.

Mark gave his sister a wary look, but complied.

"OOOF!"

He collapsed onto the floor, bowled over as Julie replicated her Stahl/Sanderson nut-crunch move on her annoying brother. Then, with a fresh canvas, she got to work painting a pair of tiny white balls, emitting sharp, red rays that gradually gave way to shades of orange and yellow as the lines went further from the center of the canvas. All of this was done amidst a vibrant, golden background.

"How's this, Rembrandt?"

Mark glared at his sister, then inspected the canvas. He raised his eyebrows as he observed the stunning accuracy with which his sister had captured his painful experience.

"You learn quickly," he offered with a nod.

"Aww…well, I earned from the best! I can't wait for our next lesson!"

"I…I….I don't think that will be necessary," Mark stammered. "You've progressed so fast, I honestly don't think I have anything more to teach you!"

Julie shrugged.

"If you say so, Maestro. But I'd appreciate it if you could write me up an index of artsy terms that I can use in conversation, you know, so I can stay sharp on technique." _And impress Adam.  
_

"Fine, fine," Mark agreed, still flustered.

As Julie turned to leave, Mark removed the canvas from the easel and approached his sister.

"Aren't you gonna take your painting?"

She faced him with a smile that brimmed with malice.

"Oh, no. That's _for you."_

"Huh-huh, I shall always treasure it," he stammered.

 


	8. Golden Goodbyes

"Alright, Junior! Let's get this show on the road!" Steven declared, shutting the trunk to his black Lincoln Continental.

"I'll be right there, Dad!"

It was the middle of July, and Junior was due to return to Boston University to begin conditioning and training with his hockey team. He had been eager to return to his Terriers and begin the fight back to the Frozen Four as soon as possible; but as he looked over at his family, who had gathered in the driveway to see him off, he felt guilty about leaving Julie alone with Mark and their mother. And he knew that Julie's girl friends had lost interest in hanging out with her once they had begun dating, and only bothered to visit when they felt the need to freshen up their tans down on the dock.

Junior hunched over to give his sister a parting hug, who got on her tiptoes to return the embrace, but added an ironic snort.

"Ok, this is too much like a tie. Let go."

He chuckled as he released her.

"You got it, Sis. And I'll be back up for your birthday, no worries."

"Honestly, it's not a big deal," Julie insisted. "You shouldn't go to so much trouble, and I'm not looking forward to it anyway."

Her 15th birthday was one month away, and Julie could not remember a birthday that she had anticipated even less.

"You will, don't you worry," Junior assured her, before casting a knowing glance toward Steven, who was patiently waiting in his Lincoln. "Dad's got a surprise for you that he's working on. Can't say anything more, but I wanna be here to see the look on your face."

Julie raised a curious eyebrow, but her brother refused to elaborate.

"Anyway – bye, Julie, Mom…." Junior then looked over to Mark. "Etcetera."

Mark rolled his eyes.

"The house won't be the same without you," he replied cryptically.

"Indeed," Karen beamed in happy agreement.

Her manuscript was nearly complete, and with Junior on his way out, his rowdy high school friends and ex-teammates would not be returning to the house and disrupting her work.

Junior nodded at his mother, who had already turned and began to walk back up to the house.

"I'll give you a call as soon as I get settled," he called to her.

"Huh?" Karen turned back confused, but soon regained her senses. "Oh, of course. Drive safely!"

And with that, she turned and began making her way back indoors.

Mark flashed an indiscrete wink at Junior's girlfriend, Meg, who was waiting in the passenger seat of Junior's Explorer, causing Junior to clench his fist. But before he had the chance to make it connect with Mark's face, Junior heard their father honk the Continental's horn.

"Let's go, already!"

"Coming!" Junior looked over to his sister. "Anyway, see you next month!"

Julie was about to give a skeptical reply, but Junior had already turned and gotten into his Explorer. Meg would ride along for the trip to Boston to help her boyfriend get settled before returning to Maine with Steven. With Junior situated, Steven rolled his car out of the driveway and onto the road to lead the journey south.

Junior followed suit and got behind his father's car, while Julie stood alone on the driveway and waved goodbye, Karen and Mark having already gone inside. The BU forward gave one last wave goodbye, then turned his undivided attention to the road and drove off. As the Continental and Explorer faded over the horizon, Julie allowed her tired arm to fall to her side.

The warm July morning prompted her to think back to the beautiful June weather that she had left behind in Minnesota, and she couldn't shake the feeling that all of the good weather seemed to be mocking her as of late. Not only did she bid farewell to Junior and the Ducks on gorgeous days, but the sun was the only thing that ever brought her old girl friends around. And when they were around, they viewed Julie as more of a waitress than a friend.

With Claire dating Mark, and Emily and Lauren dating Chris and Matt respectively, Julie's old friends – male and female – played the parts of the Beautiful People enjoying the beautiful setting in each other's company. Julie was only there to serve the refreshments. The only friend who did not treat her like hired help was Sean, the Bangor defenseman who occasionally dropped by to rollerblade and people watch. But Julie's work schedule was making this difficult, and she wasn't able to see her old friend nearly as often as she would've liked to.

Speaking of work, Julie still had two hours to kill before her mom dropped her off at the music store for her next shift. Earlier, she had thought about kayaking down the river, but now that the sun appeared to be mocking her, Julie decided to head indoors. Several minutes later, she took a seat in front of Steven's desktop computer and waited to connect to AOL as she swiveled around in her father's plush office chair.

The goalie had never considered herself to be much of a computer person, but being away from the Ducks had turned her into one. At least one, and usually two or three friendly emails from different Ducks arrived in her inbox every day. The most frequent and consistent emailers were Connie and Adam, although Julie had heard from everyone at least once by now.

She grunted as the tenuous phone connection began re-dialing. It amazed her that something as practical and as useful as the Internet had such a time-consuming and cumbersome connection process. The delay had given Julie time to brood over how much she missed the Ducks, and how painfully slow the summer had been dragging by.

"Welcome!"

_Finally!_

Julie paused for a moment, and noticed that she had not heard the accompanying "You've got mail!" She shrugged, figuring that she had heard that phrase so often that she was beginning to tune it out, so she clicked on her inbox with every expectation of discovering unread e-mails. This expectation proved unjustified.

"Hmmph."

She clicked out of her inbox and decided to surf the web. After a few minutes of reading different articles about the Bruins' offseason, including one where Cam Neely confirmed that he hoped to build on his popular role in _Dumb and Dumber_ and focus on his budding film career, Julie heard the sond of a door opening – indicating that someone from her buddy list had just connected.

Her eyes glazed over several of her Bangor friends who were already online and discovered the new arrival: BanksNotBanksie.

Before Adam's temporarily bolded screen name had the chance to return to regular font, Julie eagerly double-clicked it and began to type a greeting.

**BangorCat06:** what's up, Banksie?

Adam, feeling rather confident after Julie's last email, where she confirmed that she would love to go out and do something with him when she returned to Minnesota, decided to give Julie a mock-Portman greeting in reply.

**BanksNotBanksie:** not much. How 'bout you, Babe?

Unfortunately for Adam, he had more than one chat window open at that moment, and his half-flirty, half-cheeky greeting had gone to Charlie instead of Julie.

**CaptainDuck96:** *checks below belt* still a dude, i'm afraid. was that one meant for someone else, Banksie?

Adam's face turned beet red. As he racked his brain for a face-saving comeback, he noticed that Julie's chat window had come back up.

**BangorCat06:** I'm sorry, Adam. I know you hate that nickname.

_Great, now Julie thinks I'm mad at her._

**BanksNotBanksie:** don't worry about it. For you, I'll make an exception.

**BangorCat06:** Good :)

**BangorCat06:** It suits you anyway.

Adam came up with the perfect cat-themed quip, but before he could impress his crush with his wit, Charlie's chat window popped back up.

**CaptainDuck96:** Adam, you ok, man?

**CaptainDuck96:** I like you…just not _that_ way.

Adam grunted. Being quiet, fit, neatly-dressed and single, he found himself the subject of gay rumors from time to time. Some observers even thought he had a thing for Charlie Conway, of all people. Adam channeled his irritation into making a terse reply.

**BanksNotBanksie:** Right back at ya, Slick.

Julie's chat window popped back up.

**BangorCat06:** so how have you been, Banksie?

Before he could think better of it, Adam responded with a true statement.

**BanksNotBanksie:** ok i guess. Michael's gone back to Michigan, so I'm spending more time with the Ducks. Charlie thinks I'm hitting on him.

_Shit._

**BangorCat06:** lol. Yeah, I love the kid, but he's got an ego the size of a hockey arena.

Adam let out a relieved sigh.

**BanksNotBanksie:** 'Kid?' I thought you two share a birthday?

**BangorCat06:** age and maturity don't always go together.

Before Adam could respond, Charlie's chat window opened back up.

**CaptainDuck96:** you didnt tell me who 'Babe' was. Guy's mom, I presume?

Adam rolled his eyes, recalling years ago when D5 taunted Guy Germaine in an alleyway for having a hot mother – just before Adam swooped in with Larson and McGill, and snatched the dirty magazine that the group had been sharing. It had been one of the Golden Trio's milder acts of bullying.

**BanksNotBanksie:** unlike you, Spazway, I'm not into older women.

**CaptainDuck96:** ooooh, hit a nerve, did I? Been prowling the playgrounds, eh?

Adam grunted again before clicking back to Julie's chat window. Her point about age and maturity seemed right on the money to him.

**BanksNotBanksie:** you have no idea how right you are.

**BangorCat06:** Anyway, my brother Junior just went back to BU. I told you about him, didn't I?

**BanksNotBanksie:** yes, you did.

**BangorCat06:** so I've also lost a good training buddy and friend.

**BangorCat06:** that's so cool how your brother plays for Michigan. Wouldn't it be crazy if our brothers faced each other in the National Championship? It could happen!

**BanksNotBanksie:** yeah, that would be awesome! Only downside is that I'd have to root for Rick Riley.

**BangorCat06:** LOL! Oh, the crazy things we do for family.

Charlie's chat window popped back up.

**CaptainDuck96:** so come on…tell me already! who's Babe?

_Oh, for crying out loud._

Just when Adam's chat with Julie had been picking up, Charlie had to butt back in. The stubborn tenacity that made Captain Duck an effective hockey player made him a rather annoying friend at times. He just coudn't let go of things – even lame jokes that had long ceased to be funny. This invited another sarcastic response from Adam.

**BanksNotBanksie:** my babe is Suzanne Somers, ok? You know, the Thighmaster lady? Well I just can't get enough of her. Luckily I know her screen name, so we chat from time to time.

**CaptainDuck96:** heh, and you rag on me for liking older women. anyway g2g.

*CaptainDuck96 has signed off*

Adam clicked back to Julie's chat box.

**BanksNotBanksie:** Michael tells me that Riley's brother is going to tryout this year.

**BangorCat06:** ick. If Riley was that obnoxious on his brother's behalf, imagine how bad the brother will be?

**BanksNotBanksie:** I doubt he's anything the Ducks can't handle.

Truthfully, Adam was more worried about a pair of Eden Hall sophomores who he strongly suspected would tryout at the beginning of the school year, having been booted off JV to make room for the Ducks the previous year. No way could the younger Riley be any worse than _those two._ Even Rick seemed like a rather nice guy by comparison – more arrogant than evil.

Adam didn't dare mention _those two_ specifically to Julie, but figured that he might as well talk about the new roster possibilities. Hockey talk always put Adam and Julie in a good mood, and Adam, who often struggled to find things to say to a girl, was well in his element as he fired off clever insights and analyses.

**BangorCat06:** gosh, I always knew you were smart, but it always amazes me how much you know about the game.

**BanksNotBanksie:** Not smart enough to convince you that Wilson will try to downsize on defense?

**BangorCat06:** no way! You remember Varsity, don't you? Wilson likes his defensemen the way he likes all of his players: big, mean, and dirty. You're confusing your good idea with something that someone else will do.

Adam shook his head in wonder at his computer screen. Julie had just gone toe-to-toe with him on roster analysis, and wasn't afraid to disagree with him, but did so in the kindest way possible. He tried to work out what to say to the girl who never ceased to amaze him, without being too effusive. The more he realized that he was into her, the more he doubted that she reciprocated.

At last, he thought of a decent reply, but Julie beat him to it.

**BangorCat06:** anyway, I gotta go to work. Talk to you soon, I hope.

**BanksNotBanksie:** of course. Have fun at work!

_Stupid, stupid._

*BangorCat06 has signed off*

* * *

Julie felt that nice buzz that comes from a job well done as she watched another satisfied customer leave the music store with two plastic bags full of CDs. Julie's boss was disappointed that his ace sales lady had to leave for school in the fall, but was grateful for all the business that she brought in over the summer, so he looked the other way whenever her old hockey friend Sean stopped by to chat.

But Sean was not the only Bangor boy who had become a regular at the shop. Several guys from the high school burned large holes in their wallets by following the music recommendations of the pretty goalie. These transactions seemed entirely innocent to Julie, but other girls saw them quite differently.

_"You should be ashamed of yourself!"_ Carrie Harkins snapped at Julie before dragging her boyfriend out of the store.

Julie had found this reaction too silly to hold it against the Bangor junior, but she managed to suppress her laughs at the time. If stealing another girl's boyfriend only involved selling copious amounts of CDs, making a bit of small talk, and receiving exactly zero date offers, then Julie supposed she had become quite the vixen. But teenage jealousy has a way of making the harmless look conspiratorial, and any male/female interaction appear sexually charged.

As Julie sliced into a box of CDs to do some inventory replenishment, she heard the entry bell ring.

"Hi, welcome to Cyril's…." Julie began automatically, before recognizing her visitor. "Oh, it's you."

Sean flashed his jagged, but affable smile as he chuckled.

"Heh, some greeting. What makes you think I'm not a paying customer?"

"Well, you haven't bought anything, like…ever," Julie deadpanned, walking over to the new releases to fill the sparsely-populated racks.

"I guess that's true," Sean shrugge.d "I had to save up for camp though."

Julie dropped the box of CDs with a start. She had forgotten all about Sean's plans to go to an off-season hockey camp at the University of Vermont.

"Uh…Julie? Are you ok?"

"Oh, of course."

Sean nodded slowly, then observed the scattered jewel cases that had spilled out of the box that Julie had been carrying.

"Let me just help you with that," he offered, hunching over to pick up jewel cases.

"I should have signed up for that too," Julie declared as she joined Sean in gathering the CDs.

"Why? It's not like you need to improve," he offered, placing two handfulls of jewel cases back into the box. "I still can't get anything by you when we train."

"Yeah, well you're a defenseman. You're not meant to score."

Sean flashed a genuinely puzzled look at his old friend.

"I guess Bobby Orr means nothing to you."

"Ha! If you think you're Bobby Orr, then you're even crazier than the girls who think I'm trying to steal their boyfriends."

"I didn't say I was," Sean replied, slightly hurt. "Just that defensemen can score too."

Julie looked up from the now-clear floor after she placed the last of the jewel cases back into the box, and caught Sean staring at the floor with a slight frown. With Junior already gone and Sean on the way out, Julie was fast losing reasons to enjoy being home, and she had taken her irritability out on the nearest target. Unfortunately, that target happened to be her training buddy, people watching partner, and fellow relationship-hater.

"I'm sorry, Sean," she offered, placing a hand on the defenseman's beefy arm. "I was bitchy, and just plain _wrong_ there. You _are_ a threat on offense, and camp will make you even more of one."

"It's ok," Sean's jagged smile returned. "I've still got a long way to go, so camp should be a big help."

Julie grunted, annoyed with herself for making a casual slip that obviously hurt a good friend.

"Please don't beat yourself up," she began before checking her watch. "I'll be done here in about fifteen minutes. Let's go to the park and people watch…or whatever you want to do."

Sean's face twisted as Julie's impending loneliness began to sink in. She had obviously forgotten about the camp, and his departure date had crept up on her.

"I actually have to go now – my mom's waiting outside to take me to Burlington. I just came in to say goodbye."

Julie bit on the inside of her cheek as she wrapped the defenseman in a hug.

Sensing her unhappiness as he returned the embrace, Sean spoke up.

"Not to worry. I'll be out in time for your birthday."

Junior had also made a birthday promise to Julie, but the goalie didn't care about any of that. All that she wanted was for it to be mid-October in Minnesota, and she would gladly skip her birthday and fast forward to the hockey season if she could.

Eventually, Sean released Julie and got into a van bound for Vermont. Julie's shift ended only a few minutes later, and as she stepped out into the mild, sunny day, thoughts of her departure from Eden Hall the previous month, and of Junior's departure earlier that day made the lonely 14-year old despise the good weather that seemed to mock her with golden goodbyes.

 


	9. Close Calls

**BanksNotBanksie:** go ahead, call me crazy. But it's a FACT that green M&M's taste different from the rest.

**BangorCat06:** ok, you're crazy, lol.

Julie had been jealous of Adam getting to hang out with the Ducks, but as Adam repeated the lengthy argument that he had had with their teammates over the unique taste of green M&M's, Julie could not hold it against the good-natured center. As the dog days of summer languished on, AOL instant messaging had become a crutch for the lonely goalie, and it enabled her to remain in contact with her beloved Ducks.

She found her random chats with Adam particularly enjoyable, and she relished learning of his endearing little quirks hidden beneath the earnest veneer. Not only could he boast the ability to pick out green M&M's blind folded, but he also claimed that watching Disney movies on Friday the 13th could bring good luck for a month, and that his bedroom ceiling contained several gashes left by the coins that he was able to bounce off his tightly-made bed.

Julie continued the conversation.

**BangorCat06:** but crazy in a good way :)

Adam laughed slightly. He found it amazing how easy it was to talk to her, but realized that it was only through instant messaging. As much as he looked forward to her return to Minnesota, he feared that his inability to speak face-to-face to the beautiful goalie would resurface.

Noon had arrived in Edina, and with it, the daily test of the siren at the fire department. As Adam's eyes unconsciously moved toward the sound coming through the open window, the corner of his eye caught his Swiss Army knife resting on the top of his dresser – prompting him to think back to that day at Eden Hall when he had finally worked up the guts to exchange contact information with Julie.

He was stunned by how she had deduced the presence of his Swiss Army knife, and seeing the multi-tool reminded him of that surprising little event.

**BanksNotBanksie:** ok, weird random question….

**BangorCat06:** oh boy.

**BanksNotBanksie:** how did you figure out that I was carrying a Swiss Army knife when we exchanged sn's back at school?

Julie let out a small sigh of relief. For a terrifying few seconds, she expected Adam to ask her directly if she liked him. But as her mind focused on his actual question, she drew a blank as she struggled to recall the event.

**BangorCat06:** did I?

**BanksNotBanksie:** yes, you did!

**BangorCat06:** *shrugs* if you say so.

**BanksNotBanksie:** you really don't remember it?

**BangorCat06:** sorry :(

This revelation was disappointing, but hardly surprising to the shy forward. It seemed obvious to Adam that Julie just wasn't into him, so naturally she would forget a moment that was insignificant to her…even if it had been hugely significant to him. Before he could figure out a cool reply to mask his disappointment, Julie continued.

**BangorCat06:** i really like to people watch….it's actually one of my favorite hobbies.

**BangorCat06:** I'll sit in a park, observe strangers, and try to make educated guesses about them. What they do, what they like, what they want, etc.

**BangorCat06:** I guess I noticed how you're always ready for anything, so I figured you'd have something like a Swiss Army knife on you. You say I guessed correctly?

**BanksNotBanksie:** yes, you did.

**BangorCat06:** yippee! I don't always get it right, but that doesn't keep me from trying. You should try people watching with me when I get back to MN.

**BanksNotBanksie:** definitely! We could people watch either before or after we check out the art gallery. Remember, you were gonna teach me about art? And then we can top it off with a trip to Mickey's...or some place else. There's this new...

Adam had gotten cut off by the character limit.

Julie smiled as she observed Adam's earnest mind beginning to make specific plans.

**BangorCat06:** see what I mean about 'ready for anything?' You're already on to making plans. You're a guy who likes to be prepared…the kinda guy who carries a Swiss Army knife.

(Long pause)

**BangorCat06:** …and I love that.

_Oh, thank God._

**BangorCat06:** but there's no need to cram everything into one day.

**BangorCat06:** it might be more fun to spread it out, that way we can see each other more often.

**BanksNotBanksie:** you're not such a bad planner yourself :)

**BangorCat06:** what can I say, I learned from the best.

Adam hesitated to respond, uncertain if Julie had just referred to him as 'the best.'

**BangorCat06:** and yes, I meant you there :)

Seeing his crush speak so fondly gave Adam a surge of confidence, thus, he decided to do the unthinkable: ask Julie if their planned outings were to be considered 'dates.' He began typing different responses, deleting them, then starting over again in the hopes of sounding smooth. Despite his willingness to ask the difficult question, he wanted to do his best not to come across as a total dork in the process.

As Julie nervously waited for Adam's response on the other end, she heard footsteps approach. Spinning around in her father's office chair, she observed her mother approach with an annoyed look on her face, and a cordless phone in hand.

"There you are again on that blasted device," Karen huffed. "I thought you sporty types actually spent your free time outdoors, working out and the like – not hogging the phone line."

"Sorry, Mom."

"Just sign off and stay signed off for a couple hours," Karen ordered. "I'm expecting an important call from my agent."

Julie resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at her mother's sense of self-importance. After she had secured a literary agent to hock her manuscript, Karen seemed to expect a telephone call at any minute to announce both her publication and her instant status on the New York Times Best Seller's List. Naturally, this resulted in less Internet/Adam time for Julie.

She turned back to the computer screen to say her goodbye.

**BangorCat06:** anyway i g2g….Mom needs to use the phone. See ya later!

Julie did not wait for Adam's response before signing off, and was privately relieved for the excuse to leave the chat. She felt that she had been far too effusive with Adam, and given his reluctance to respond, it seemed obvious to her that he was uncomfortable with her compliments. Karen's demand that Julie sign off seemed to spare the goalie's pride of any further exposure.

With Karen having left, Julie was alone in her father's den. As she got up from the swivel chair, she accepted that despite all of her public and private protests against dating, she had fallen for Adam Banks.

For the first time since returning home, she began to dread sophomore year at Eden Hall.

In Edina, Adam stared at his computer screen, the words 'BangorCat06 has signed off' mocking his lack of courage. He had dithered in an attempt to smoothly clarify the nature of his planned outings with Julie, and the goalie had abruptly left without him getting an answer to the question that had bedeviled him for the past several weeks: _does Julie like-like me?_

His earlier confidence evaporated as he brooded, and he began to feel grateful that Julie had signed off before he had the chance to make a complete fool of himself.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Charlie, this is a mistake," a worried Guy declared, reluctantly following his Captain to Connie's house.

The two veteran Ducks had been flying across town on their rollerblades, and planned on taking a trip to the diner with Adam, but Charlie insisted on taking a Connie-centered detour in the hopes of getting Connie and Guy back on speaking terms, if not back together. With Linda out of town, Charlie was free to turn his full attention to team chemistry issues, much to Guy's chagrin.

"And I'm telling _you_ that the two of you have gotta get used to each other at some point," Charlie replied. "So it might as well be before the season starts."

The pair of forwards arrived at a small, white cape cod-style house similar to the one that Charlie had moved into when his mother remarried. Guy stood back at the side of the street while Charlie approached the front door. Charlie rang the bell, prompting Joey, the Moreau family's Aussie terrier, to start yipping from inside.

About half a minute later, Connie arrived at the door, looking like she was about ready to hit the gym in her black mesh shorts and white tank top.

"Hey, Charlie!" She beamed. "Are we off to Mickey's?"

"You know it!"

"Cool, I'll just grab my blades."

As Connie began turning around to make her way back inside, she observed Guy out of the corner of her eye. She turned back to Charlie with a more severe expression on her face.

" _He_ isn't coming, is he?"

"That was the plan," Charlie nodded. "You guys gotta start talking to each other at some point, why not now?"

Connie allowed her front door to do the talking as she returned inside.

As a deflated Charlie made his way back to Guy, the blond forward chuckled.

"I warned you, didn't I?"

"Whatever," Charlie shrugged. "You guys can dance around each other all you like for now, but you won't be able to avoid each other at my birthday party."

Guy's eyes widened. He had forgotten that Charlie's birthday was coming up, and he knew that Connie would be unavoidable there. Despite wanting her back, Guy had grown used to Connie ignoring him, and the prospect of interacting with his on-again/off-again girlfriend actually made him nervous.

"And let's not forget," Charlie continued. "There will be the pool party at Adam's as well."

Guy laughed slightly as they resumed their journey.

"And Mr. Banks agreed to that?"

Charlie flashed his old friend a look that said _what kind of stupid question was that?_

"Never mind."

As the pair neared Adam's sprawling mansion, they observed the quiet center practicing shots on a cardboard goalie in the driveway – bringing back memories of when Adam rejoined the Ducks during the weeks leading up to the Junior Goodwill Games.

Charlie pulled his beloved duck call out of his pocket, and drew a startled look from Adam as the familiar sound carried across the driveway.

"Hey guys," Adam greeted his friends with a smile, "I'll be right there."

After putting away Puck Face and the net, Adam joined Charlie and Guy on the trip to Mickey's.

"So Banksie…." Charlie began, earning an annoyed look from Adam that the Duck Captain ignored. "I've been meaning to ask, why do you practice on a cardboard goalie when you've got a little brother?"

Adam shrugged.

"Given how uncoordinated Eric is, I think Puck Face presents the greater challenge."

"Too bad Julie's not here," Charlie shrugged, drawing a startled look from Adam.

"What do you mean by that?!"

Charlie gave Adam a bemused look.

"Only that practicing on a talented, _live_ goalie would probably be better for you. Why, what did you _think_ I meant?"

"Uh….nothing." _That was close…too close._

Before Charlie could press Adam on his weird behavior, Adam changed the subject.

"So are you guys ready to go back to school? I take it you'll be rooming together again?"

But Guy shook his head.

"Nah, our Captain claims that I snore…."

"You do!" Charlie insisted.

"….so I'll be roommates with Luis this year," Guy finished.

"And I was hoping that you'd agree to room with me," Charlie added, looking over to Adam.

Adam's eyebrows flew up in surprise. He had always been a bit of an outsider among his fellow Ducks. First, he was a Hawk among D5ers. Then, he was the rich preppy amongst the ragtag crew at Eden Hall before being promoted to the school's Varsity squad. Despite his fondness for the group, Adam had never completely felt like 'one of them.'

Now, Charlie Conway, Captain Duck himself, wanted to bring Adam into the inner circle.

"Well, if you're as quiet asleep as you are awake, then I think this'll really work out," Charlie grinned, observing Adam's stunned silence.

"Where do I sign?" Adam asked.

"I got the form back at my house," Charlie replied. "After a little Mario Kart, we can take care of that."

Charlie was relieved that the quiet center had agreed to the idea. With most of the other Duck housing arrangements already taken care of, the Captain had begun to fear that he would be forced to room with one of the Bash Brothers. Not that he had anything against Fulton or Portman, but Charlie did not like the idea of 'getting between' those two.

Eventually, the three forwards arrived at Mickey's Diner, and after an animated but friendly chat over the upcoming NHL season, Adam asked Charlie's mother, Casey, for the bill.

"Your money's no good here," Casey insisted with a smile.

After the kindly assistant manager turned and left the three Ducks, Adam discretely placed a twenty dollar bill in Charlie's hand, drawing a surprised look from his future roommate.

"Slip that into her purse when she's not looking," Adam instructed.

"Heh, yeah – I'll get right on that," Charlie chortled.

But Adam's hard sapphire eyes were unamused, and radiated an intensity that cut right through Charlie's glib exterior. The quiet center was not about to let someone as kind and as hardworking as Casey go without getting a little something for the effort. Sensing his friend's seriousness, Charlie eventually nodded in agreement.

"Ok, man. I'll make sure she gets this."

* * *

Karen had waited nearly two hours for a phone call that lasted less than two minutes, but was glowing afterwards. Her literary agent had secured a deal with a publishing house, and with that, Karen Gaffney had gone from aspiring novelist to professional writer. But as thrilled as the Gaffney matriarch was with having achieved her lifelong ambition, Julie was even more delighted by the fact that her mother would not be around for her 15th birthday, as Karen was due to meet with her publisher that day.

It was in this spirit of mutual bliss that Karen told her daughter that she could "play around on the computer," for as long as she liked, and Julie happily took her mother up on that offer, making her way to Steven's empty den. The hardworking business consultant was out of town yet again, this time in Chicago, and his home office had in effect become a second room for his daughter.

After several long minutes of twangs and crashing sounds, Julie connected to the internet at last. Her only unread email from the last couple hours was a chain letter from Averman that threatened bad luck for a decade unless she passed along this little bit of nonsense to at least twenty other people. The practical-minded goalie rolled her eyes, then deleted the message without bothering to forward it.

Suddenly, an instant messaging window popped up.

**TVH18:** hey Cat.

Julie smiled, recognizing Connie's screen name. The goalie understood why Connie's jersey number was part of the brunette forward's screen name, but the meaning of 'TVH' was lost on her.

**BangorCat06:** what's up Connie? Hey, what does TVH stand for anyway?

**TVH18:** The Velvet Hammer. Averman called me that once and it kinda stuck.

**BangorCat06:** lol. i know how that goes. I don't mind 'Cat,' but 'Cat Lady' makes me sound like a crazy old woman who lives with a bunch of cats.

**BangorCat06:** I guess I have Goldberg to thank for that one.

Connie laughed out loud at the image of Julie 'the Cat Lady' hollering at a bunch of little kids to get off her lawn before snuggling up with twenty-odd felines. As pretty as Julie was, the image of her as a cat-crazed spinster did not seem unbelievable to Connie. The goalie seemed permanently single, and quite happy about it. Part of Connie was actually jealous of that. Perhaps complete disinterest in dating wasn't so desirable, but Connie wished she could have at least a little bit of what Julie had, so she could purge Guy from her thoughts.

**TVH18:** so Charlie tried once again to get me to talk to Guy.

**BangorCat06:** why's that a bad thing? You two are gonna be teammates unless one of you gets bumped up to Varsity.

**TVH18:** you remember last year, don't you?

Julie had in fact been trying to forget about the tiresome Connie/Guy drama of their freshman year. Guy had dumped Connie for a pretty little trust fund baby named Vicki, only for Little Miss Perfect to stomp on his heart. Naturally, he came crawling back to Connie, but Connie had zero interest in being Guy's fallback option.

**TVH18:** he'll win me back, then dump me the second he finds someone hotter. That's how it'll go down.

**BangorCat06:** who said talking is the same thing as dating? If that were the case, we'd be two of the busiest girls in school, given our teammates.

Connie knew that Julie had a point, but her attraction to Guy was so strong that she doubted that their interaction could be limited to hockey matters. But not wanting to look weak, the brunette forward decided to change the subject.

**TVH18:** so what ever happened to you and Adam when I left you guys that day before we all moved out?

Julie jumped in her seat, taken aback by the random question, a question that involved Adam, no less.

**BangorCat06:** well that was random.

(Long pause)

_Heh, she's not gonna let me wriggle outta_ _this one_ , Julie thought.

**BangorCat06:** we exchanged AOL sn's, that's all. I can confirm that he's not online right now, if that's what you wanted to know.

As Julie observed Adam's grayed-out screen name beneath the offline heading on her buddy list, she felt a tinge of sadness. Despite their awkward last chat and her uncomfortable realization, Adam's absence still induced a feeling of disappointment in Julie.

**TVH18:** that's all?

**BangorCat06:** that's all.

**TVH18:** so…have you guys been in touch?

**BangorCat06:** yep.

**TVH18:** so what do you think of him?

**BangorCat06:** nice guy.

Connie grunted in frustration. After the Varsity goalie Scooter Vanderbilt had given Julie that congratulatory kiss on the cheek after the JV/Varsity Scrimmage, Connie naturally had many questions about the two goalies. And Julie had a maximum two-word response for all of those questions. The Bangor-based Duck was now repeating those same cagey tactics with a different guy in question.

For just a minute, Connie considered the possibility that she had taken an interest in Julie's love life to deflect from her own disappointments in that arena; but the Velvet Hammer quickly pushed that to the side, deciding to squeeze everything she possibly could out of Julie.

**TVH18:** yeah, Adam's a nice guy. Not bad to look at either.

Julie's jaw dropped.

_Is Connie moving in on Adam?_

Julie knew that she had no right to object, seeing as how Adam was not her boyfriend, but the possibility came as a shock to the goalie. She broke her two-word policy, but still managed to keep her response cool and terse.

**BangorCat06:** if you say so.

**TVH18:** you don't agree?

_Ha! I've got her now!_ Connie thought triumphantly.

**BangorCat06:** whatevs. You see hot guys, I see teammates.

**BangorCat06:** if you wanna date one of the other guys, go ahead and do it.

_But if it's Adam you want, I will kill you in your sleep._

Connie could see that she wasn't going to get anything out of Julie, so she decided to change subjects.

**TVH18:** your birthday's coming up soon.

**BangorCat06:** yep. I wasn't excited about it at first, but now that Mom will be in New York, I'm kinda looking forward to it.

**TVH18:** lol. your mom sounds so sweet.

**TVH18:** but you should totally look forward to it! The Ducks have a surprise for you.

**BangorCat06:** oh?

**TVH18:** sorry, can't say another word. Sworn to secrecy.

Connie had dangled the surprise in front of Julie in the hope that the goalie would provide real answers to the Adam questions if Connie went ahead and spilled the beans. The brunette forward knew that Charlie would kill her for giving away the surprise, but the prospect of Julie/Adam gossip was just too tempting.

Julie, however, did not take the bait.

**BangorCat06:** sounds cool.

After accepting defeat on the Adam front, Connie chatted affably about best and worst birthday experiences before Julie had to sign off for dinner. The goalie was pleased with herself for resisting the temptation to learn more about the surprise by telling Connie about her feelings for Adam. Julie had already survived a close call earlier in the day when she came just short of laying it all out before Adam.

_Enough close calls for one day._

Despite all of that, the surprise nagged at Julie's mind, and she yearned to know what it was.


	10. Happy Birthdays

August 15th had arrived, and with it, the birthdays of Charlie and Julie. Having taken care to send Julie an e-card, Adam strapped on his roller blades and set out for Charlie's house with the latest Hendrix hockey stick gift-wrapped and in hand. The hot, sticky dog days of summer had given way to agreeably warm weather, so Adam was quite happy to make the long trip on foot. Staying true to Banks form, he had given himself plenty of time – so much time that he was beginning to worry about arriving early to the party like a dork. 

But these little worries gave way to alarm as he nearly collided with a tall figure in black.

_Where the heck did he come from?!_

Adam put on the brakes and screeched to a halt with just inches to spare as the dark apparition turned to meet his eyes.

Ghostly pale skin, sharp features, a square face, and a pair of ebony eyes that emitted no light but seemed to absorb everything.

_Larson._

"Adam!" The figure beamed. "Well, fancy meeting you here!"

Adam gulped as he took in the sight of his old Hawk friend. Paul Larson had gotten much taller and stronger since their days of living under Jack Reilly's thumb, and his once-sandy hair had darkened to a shade that matched his obsidian eye color. And gone was the slightly wild mane of freshman year; now, Larson's hair was neatly slicked back in a thick pompadour – giving him the appearance of an old school wise guy. A black leather jacket, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of black Army combat boots completed his new look.

"Adam? You ok, buddy?"

"I'm fine," Adam began softly, avoiding Larson's eyes. "Just heading to Charlie's. It's his birthday today."

"Huh," Larson nodded. "Well tell him I said 'happy birthday'." He turned his gaze to the hockey stick. "I take it that's for him?"

Adam nodded.

Larson let out a slight laugh that sounded too high-pitched for his body.

"Even when it's for someone else, you always manage to have a hockey stick in your hands. Nobody can ever say you're not dedicated."

"Thanks," Adam replied softly, still avoiding direct eye contact.

"Anyway, I'm glad I bumped into you," Larson continued. "You didn't respond to my last email. Everything ok?"

Steeling himself, Adam finally managed to look up at his interlocutor.

"Fine, Larson. Everything's fine."

"Larson, is it? Not Paul?"

Adam remembered when he had been on first name terms with Paul Larson and Jake McGill. And he could not deny that part of him longed for those days to return – when he could be feared and respected, when he would have a pair of ruthless allies by his side to take on the rest of the world. But the power that the Golden Trio brought to him came with a heavy price, and Adam would have to live with a conscience that was growing less and less likely to forgive him.

Larson was tempting him, and this temptation was made all the stronger by the shabby treatment that the Ducks had given him during their freshman year at Eden Hall. Adam's fists clenched as he recalled the pettiness and the disloyalty of Charlie Conway and the rest of his gang.

_Those little twerps._

Paul Larson could help Adam correct the injustices that he had suffered the previous year, of that Adam had no doubt.

Larson grinned as he observed Adam beginning to smile himself.

But Adam's villainous grin was stillborn. He remembered how the Ducks welcomed him back when Rick Riley declared that he lacked the heart of a Warrior. He remembered how the Ducks came together and defeated Minnesota's best after a brutal 60 minutes of hockey. He remembered Charlie's invitation to room with him during sophomore year, and he remembered Julie's faithful correspondence, and how big it made him feel.

"You know we're not friends," Adam declared at last. "Not today, not tomorrow, not next month, not next year. Get the trend?"

Larson's affable grin vanished. In its place were cold, dead eyes, and a flat expression.

"Suit yourself, _Banksie._ See you next month."

Adam looked to the sky as he heard the roar of thunder. The clouds had snuffed out the sun, and it looked like rain was on its way. He turned back to face Larson, only to discover that the defenseman had vanished.

_How the heck did he do that?_

For a moment, he wondered if the conversation had actually happened. Larson was nowhere to be seen.

_Did I imagine the whole thing?_

But as lightning flashed, Adam realized that he had better get moving.

After several minutes of furious, desperate skating, the sun pushed the storm clouds into a hasty retreat, and the gorgeous weather returned as Charlie's house came into view. Though it never rained, Adam's brow had gotten wet from all of his frantic skating, but he supposed he wasn't the mess that he could have been. Rolling up to Charlie's front step, Adam undid his crash helmet and rang the doorbell.

"Adam!" Charlie beamed, wrapping Adam in a man-hug. "Where've you been, man? You're late!"

Adam, ever the stickler for punctuality, checked his watch

"I'm still half an hour early," he said with a faint note of confusion.

Charlie laughed at the center's earnestness.

"Yeah, but I expected _you_ to b _e_ _an hour_ early. At the very least."

Adam supposed he had been running a bit behind schedule, but decided against explaining his apparent 'tardiness.'

"Oh well," he shrugged. "Happy birthday, Time Keeper!"

"Heh, I guess I'll take that over 'Spazway.' Anyway, sit down and fire up the N64. We might as well kill some time before the others arrive."

Adam did as instructed and made the short walk from the narrow foyer to the cozy living room. Despite boasting the latest video game console, Charlie's living room was not as well-furnished as Adam's, but the intimate quarters made Adam feel more at home than he did in his own house. As nice as the Banks Residence was, the place Adam had always given Adam a bit of a 'stuffy hotel' feel. It was another reason for him to look forward to the start of school and the return of dorm life.

Before sitting down, he leaned his birthday present against the side of the gas fireplace.

As he sat down on the carpeted floor in front of the TV, Adam noticed that _NHL '97_ was resting in the game port of the Nintendo 64. He popped the hockey game out of the console and replaced it with Charlie's favorite, _Mario Kart 64,_ before activating the machine. The center chuckled as he heard Charlie's voice from the kitchen.

" _I'm just getting some pop!"_

" _Yeah, well there's none in the frosting bowl, so get your fingers out of there!" Linda commanded the birthday boy._

A few seconds later, Charlie emerged from the kitchen with two chilled cans of Surge. The sugar-and-caffeine-packed soda pop was the scourge of American parents from coast to coast, but Charlie's stepfather, Bruce, had bought a 12-pack of the stuff over the objections of Casey in yet another futile attempt to score brownie points with his stepson.

"Thanks, man," Adam took the outstretched can, cracked it open, then took a swig.

Charlie took a seat on the floor next to his linemate.

"No problem. Hey, is this _Mario Kart_? I thought I had _NHL 97_ in there."

"Would you rather play that?"

Captain Duck shook his head.

"Not really, but I figured that you'd want to play the hockey game."

Adam gave a slight laugh.

"Well, I guess I'm branching out."

"Cool."

As the future roommates began playing the Nintendo racing game, Adam wondered if Charlie had left the hockey game in the console just for him. The thought made Adam even more excited about the upcoming year where he was to room with Captain Duck. Thinking back to Charlie's early welcome of Adam from the Hawks when the center was very much an outcast, and later during the Goodwill Games when Charlie sacrificed his roster spot so Adam and Russ could enjoy international glory, Adam realized what a special friend he had.

_I guess I better deliver Charlie's pool party for him,_ he resolved.

"Boom!" Charlie exclaimed in triumph as his Mario beat Adam's Luigi to the finishing line. "I hope you're not going easy on me just cuz t's my birthday."

"Very funny," Adam deadpanned. "Let's see if you can do that twice."

As Charlie directed the video game back to the main menu, Linda walked in with a bowl of vanilla frosting and a spoon in hand.

"Here you go, you fiend," Linda offered Charlie as she set the bowl into his lap before looking over to Adam. "Charlie, you didn't tell me that Adam's here!" She gave a light backhand across Charlie's arm, drawing an exaggerated "ow" from her boyfriend.

Standing at about five-six with a medium build, clear skin, chestnut-colored hair, and baby blue eyes, Linda had a pretty look that her non-trendy clothing tended to downplay. This made it difficult for other students to notice the outspoken honor's student's agreeable features. But to Charlie, Linda Tompkins was the most beautiful girl in the world, period.

"Hey Linda," Adam greeted her with a genial smile.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks though," Adam replied. "I can wait."

"Not on my watch."

Before Adam could offer any protest, Linda turned and disappeared into the kitchen. She re-emerged about a minute later with a bowl full of M&M's – the leftovers that were not going to go on Charlie's birthday cake.

"Make sure you leave some of the green ones," she instructed Adam. "That way you can do your little trick for the others when they arrive," she added with a smile before returning to the kitchen to help Casey finish with the party preparations.

"She really is something," Adam chortled. "I mean that in a good way," he hastened to add.

Charlie nodded.

"Yeah, she's the best."

Looking over at the gifted center, Charlie figured that hockey was Adam's girlfriend, but he decided that his friend would be happier with a nice human being, so he continued.

"We'll find you a nice girl next year. Don't you worry."

Adam's eyes widened at the prospect of a gleeful Charlie plunging him into the terrifying dating world. As a star athlete, Adam was an obsessive competitor, and defeat of any kind was deeply detestable to him. Sometimes he wondered if the fear of failure motivated him more than a desire for success. The idea of putting himself out into that gossipy, unforgiving dating world actually made the threat of Paul Larson seem like a mild irritant by contrast.

Besides, there was only one girl for Adam, and she happened to be a teammate. Any rejection from Julie Gaffney threatened to undermine Adam in the one area of life where he was truly dominant. The quiet center knew that he would have to choose his words very carefully around his excitable captain, especially if they involved Julie, or he would risk a clumsy matchmaking attempt that wrecked the hockey season.

* * *

An hour ahead in Bangor, Maine, Julie's birthday party had been going surprisingly well. Her former best friend, Claire Karsen, had realized that she and the rest of her friends had taken advantage of Julie's hospitality over the summer, so she was solicitous in catering to Julie's birthday whims. The goalie had started her special day off on the right foot, being greeted with a barrage of Duck e-cards. Though the birthday greetings had the effect of putting a spring into her step, part of Julie felt a tinge of sadness and jealousy when she realized that all of the Minnesota-based Ducks would be together at Charlie's on her special day, and that she could not join in their festivities.

But the goalie wasted no time in opening presents, and proceeded to do so with gusto the instant the last guest arrived at her house. Despite the 15-year old's considerable maturity, Julie was still a kid, and the idea of waiting to open presents after the birthday dinner was a complete non-starter. True to form, ELK and the other girls from Bangor High had gotten Julie a bunch of cosmetic products, for which Julie was secretly grateful. Despite her unwillingness to admit it, she liked perfume, eye liner, makeup and the like. But she hadn't the faintest clue how to select any of it, so she relied on the expertise of her stylish friends.

Equally true to form, most of the Bangor boys had gotten Julie a bunch of hockey goodies. Junior, who made good on his promise to be home for the party, got his sister a nice poster of Martin Brodeur, the phenomenal young goalie for the New Jersey Devils. Despite Julie's devotion to the Boston Bruins, she had a sort of 'professional respect' for the talented goalie, and did not feel that the poster would clash with her Bruins decor.

Fighting back the feeling of nausea induced by the presence of Devil paraphernalia, Sean presented Julie with a black Bruins parka, earning himself the longest and most appreciative hug from the birthday goalie, which came as a surprise to no one. Chris had gotten Julie a fresh new Bruins pennant to replace her old one that had grayed with age, while Matt had given Julie a hilarious video of hockey bloopers.

Mark had delivered on his promised index of artsy terms, and included several helpful examples to allow Julie to really sink her teeth into the definitions. She felt confident that she would at least sound expert enough to impress Adam on their future trip to the art gallery.

But the most surprising gift came from Claire, and it was a white, one-piece swimsuit. The swimsuit left more of the back exposed than most one-pieces, and the top of it was tied together by a spaghetti string, as opposed to being a solid piece of material.

"I don't know how much swimming you'll do in Minnesota," Claire explained. "But if you ever get to a beach or a pool in this, you'll make some poor guy's heart stop."

Julie smiled at her old friend's words. As Claire and the other girls often reminded her, Julie tanned well, and the summer glow of her skin together with the white of the suit promised to make for a striking combination.

With the gift opening concluded, most of Julie's guests headed down to the dock to enjoy the mid-August sun under Junior's watchful eye. Some of the teens took a dip in the river, whose current kept the water cooler than most lakes were at this time of year, but most simply chilled out on the spacious dock. Sean had remained behind with Julie in the living room, and he gathered the discarded wrapping paper while Julie hunched over a coffee table and inspected her gifts more closely.

As the familiar scent of Michael Jordan cologne wafted into room, Julie realized that her father had joined them. Steven Gaffney offered Sean a grateful smile as he observed the defenseman's cleaning efforts.

"You, young man, are an absolute prince," Steven declared, giving Sean a grateful clap on the back.

Sean simply smiled his jagged-but-warm hockey player smile in return.

Steven then turned to his daughter, extending a cordless house phone toward her.

"You've got a call, sweetie. It's on speakerphone."

Julie set aside her cosmetics with a nod, observing a slightly mischievous glint in her father's sapphire eyes. He knew something that she didn't. She took the phone with a bit of reluctance.

"Hello?"

_"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOUU,_

_"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,_

_"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR JULIEEEEEE,_

_"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOOOUUUUU!"_

The Duck chorus was loud, enthusiastic, and atrociously off-key.

Julie loved it.

"Thanks, guys," she beamed, "And happy birthday, Charlie!"

"Right back at ya!" Charlie called back.

The Ducks had taken the party to the white graduation tent that Bruce and Casey had pitched in their backyard. The tent had seen service exactly one month earlier, when it housed Fulton's birthday party at Charlie's insistence. Now it shielded the in-state Ducks and a few other teenagers from the sun on Charlie's special day.

"And because I sang for _you_ ," Charlie began, _"You_ gotta sing for _me_. We're all here, so no pressure or anything if you mess it up!"

Julie rolled her eyes, but acquiesced.

"You got it, Birthday Boy."

After singing a surprisingly melodious rendition that drew Duck shouts of "encore," Julie obliged with a repeat performance that drew loud cheers.

_She even_ sings _like an angel,_ Adam thought.

"We were actually lucky to reach you," Charlie declared. "Connie forgot to bring her phonebook, so no one had your number. Then Banksie got out his little blue notepad."

Julie smiled, grateful, but not surprised that earnest Adam had saved the day. She imagined that the notepad was tucked into one of his pockets, possibly next to his trusty Swiss Army knife. But Birthday Boy or not, Julie was not about to let Charlie get away with using Adam's despised nickname.

"His name's Adam, not Banksie _,_ " she declared in mild reproach. _Besides, only I get to call him that._

A faux-shocked _Ooooh_ washed over the Ducks.

"Watch out, Captain! Kitty's got claws!"

Goldberg's quip drew a bunch of laughs, and even Julie couldn't resist joining in before Charlie continued.

"Duly noted, Cat. Sorry, _Adam._ We're cool, right?"

There were some muffled, indiscernible sounds that Julie couldn't quite make out.

"Adam, get closer to the phone!" She called out. "Charlie's boring me."

It took a little while for Adam to shuffle his way through the Ducks and all of Charlie's non-hockey friends who had turned out for the party, but eventually, he made it to the phone. Once he had gotten close, Linda got up and offered her seat, which he gratefully took next to Charlie.

"Hey Julie," Adam began. "Happy birthday! And don't worry, I forgive Charlie. But thanks," he added with a slightly embarrassed chuckle.

"Don't mention it," she replied. "I figured I owed you after _her name's Julie, not babe."_

Adam's eyes widened at the mention of his early attempt at gallantry that had nearly gotten him clobbered by Dean Portman. He had no idea that the awkward event had left a positive impression on the goalie who secretly haunted his thoughts and dreams.

"And thanks for remembering my number!" Julie added.

But before Adam could respond, Julie heard the sound of grunts and shoving as _someone_ – she had a good guess who – made their way to the phone.

"Julie, I'm so sorry!" Connie offered. "I was about to turn around and get it…Charlie's isn't that far from my house, so I could have, but…"

"…Adam saved you the trip," Julie finished the sentence.

"Yeah….."

"Don't worry about it Connie, it's cool."

It was at that moment when Julie remembered the mysterious surprise that the Ducks had promised her.

"So can any of you guys tell me what this big surprise is supposed to be? Or was the phone call your surprise?"

Julie heavily suspected that the latter was the case. If that were so, it was still a nice surprise that she appreciated. But the smart, hardworking honors student didn't get straight-A's simply by making assumptions.

Charlie gave a knowing laugh.

"Heh, actually, no. It's a real doozy. It's not the phone call."

"Come on, tell me already!"

"Alright, alright Birthday Girl. Drum roll, Ducks!"

Julie rolled her eyes as Charlie insisted on prolonging the moment for dramatic effect. The Ducks obliged their Captain by pounding their hands on the folding tables set up under the tent.

"You have won," Captain Duck began in the voice of a game show host, "One. Free. Early trip to Minnesota, ahead of the school year. And you will be staying in the Presidential Suite at HOTEL MOREAU!"

Julie's jaw nearly hit the floor.

She looked up at her father who had taken a seat in a nearby armchair, and he smiled in affirmation.

"It's for real, sweetie. I've got business in Minneapolis this coming week, and I figured you could fly out with me tomorrow. The Moreaus were kind enough to agree to let you stay with them til school starts."

Julie leapt off the sofa and raced toward her father, wrapping him in a grateful embrace.

"Thank you, thank you, _thank you!_ I love you so much!"

As Steven returned the hug, they were interrupted by Charlie over the phone.

"Uh, you ok, Cat?"

Julie rolled her eyes as she released her father, but she was incapable of feeling anything less than total bliss at that moment.

"Yes, you big dork, I'm ok. Actually, I'm much more than ok...I'm ecstatic! Thank you guys! And double thank you, Connie! Please tell your parents I'm really grateful, Connie."

"Got it," Connie replied.

"Well, happy birthday, Julie," Charlie spoke up. "The stepdad is glaring at me, which means this long-distance call has to end, I'm afraid. But see you soon!"

"Yep, bye Charlie, bye guys! And thanks again, Connie!"

The goalie was still beaming as she ended the call, but as she looked up, she noticed that her old friend Sean was frowning.

"I'm sorry Sean," Julie wiped the smile off her face and made her way over to the burly defenseman, giving him a consoling hug.

"Don't be," he replied, surprising himself with a genuine smile. "If I had friends like that waiting for me, you better believe I'd be on the next flight," he released her from the embrace. The defenseman could never be sad or disappointed as long as his goalie was happy.

"You should begin packing," Steven advised. "Then you can return to the party. Don't feel the need to grab everything, the moving company will take the bulk once the dorms open."

Julie nodded, then grabbed her white swimsuit before heading to her bedroom to start packing. If Charlie's pool party at Adam's was on, then Julie would soon discover whether or not Claire's prediction would come true.

So what if Adam's heart stopped? She would gladly give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

**THE END**

 


End file.
